Focus on your own form

You are here to do yoga. And anyway, you're not sure if you're allowed to just walk over there and help her.

As you continue to go through the various forms, you occasionally look over at the latina girl in the class. She is keeping up with you, and then...no, not just keeping up with you. She seems to be putting effort into synchronizing with you. When your body moves, hers moves in the exact same way. You don't know how to think of it other than feeling an energy running between the two of you. Especially since you suddenly find yourself, in keeping up with her, getting into stretches that you didn't think your body could handle. Every once in a while, she gives you a small smile.

You, of course, cannot help but think about her ass and how flexible she is. So much for the purity of your spiritual connection.

You do feel sorry for the sandy-haired girl, on the other side of the room. She keeps struggling with poses as basic as downward dog. Maybe as the semester goes on, she'll get better?

At the end, when the instructor calls for Shavasana, you practically collapse onto your mat. Your entire body is tingling, and you feel like you actually might, not just meditate, but sleep.

But what keeps you awake is the strong feeling of eyes on you. You turn your head to see the latina girl eying you up, even as you should be resting.