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flings the device into herbag with disgust. “I am on vacation, people, now leave me alone!”

“Damn straight,” Kat adds. “I’m going to sleep.”

After lunch, I end up reading Jodi’s tabloids and thenpass out in the sun for most of the afternoon.

I wake up to the sound of Kat thumbing away at herBlackBerry. At first, I think I’m still back with her behind the bushes outsideLeslie’s neighbor’s house. Then I see the sun hanging low in the sky justbehind a palm tree and remember where I really am.

A sudden memory of the horrors of the night before flashesacross my frontal cortex and I groan.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty,” Jodi sings. “Nice bruise you gotthere on your knee.”

I look down to see that the toilet incident in Leslie’slav did in fact leave a colorful memento.

“How’d you get that?” Kat asks, looking up from herkeypad.

“Oh, you know, this and that,” I say.

“I can’t believe you guys are cutting school!” Jodi says.“This is just like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” We then spend severalminutes debriefing about how we left things at school, with Kat filling Jodi inon her more-than-slight problem with the diministration and Psycho Mom.I ask their opinion about Martha and how I think she’s onto me.

“Classic paranoia,” Jodi dismisses. “No one cares aboutyou nearly as much as you do; I’ve learned that the hard way. Not even yourlover boy, MC Little Douche Bag or whatever his name is.”

“MC Lenny Katzenberg,” I clarify. “And I bet he has beenthinking about me. I probably received a few playfully naughty texts from himwhile I was sleeping.”

I check my phone to find that there are no playfullynaughty texts from MC Lenny.

“Bad reception?” Kat asks.

“Mm,” I say. Although I did get another e-mail from Doug.

“Sunset yoga,” a soothing female voice sings from acrossthe sand. We stop our conversation and turn in the direction of the sound.

“She’s over there,” Jodi points. “Follow the harem pants.”

“Sunset yoga,” the woman calls again, this time muchcloser to us. “Starting in five minutes.”

“Hey,” Kat calls back, standing and stretching. “How muchfor me and my friends?” Kat is a certified instructor for vinyasa and hatha andabout fourteen other types of yoga. When she’s not discussing astrological andpsychic energies with Varka, she’s perfecting a pose and meditating.

Or she’s drinking and cursing. There’s a fine balance.

The woman comes closer. She’s a toned, tan, tiny sprite ofa thing who makes even Kat look normal size. Her legs are hidden beneathflowing pink pants, but her muscular torso is on full view in a string-bikinitop. “It’s free for hotel guests,” she smiles, twisting her long blond hairinto a knot on the top of her head. “Right over here.” She points toward anarea a short walk down the beach. “And we provide the mats. All you need tobring is some water and your chi.” She looks like the yogi version of Shakira,abs and all. She carries a stick of burning incense in her right hand.

“Let’s try it! Sounds fun!” Jodi says.

I am not convinced. Exercise is one of those things I liketo avoid as much as possible. Especially when hung over and already sweaty.“I’m thinking that upside down is not going to be my favorite state of being,”I say, “but you guys go on.”

“We said we’d do everything together on this trip,” Katreminds me.

“When did we say that?”

“Just now.” She half smiles.

“Funny. Fine,” I say. We gather our things and follow theharem lady and a trail of woody incense down the beach. She nods her approvaland tells us that her name is Debbie.

I preferred Shakira.

Jodi picks up our conversation from where we left off.“How was that party, by the way? You guys didn’t say much about it.”

“Just typical girls’-night-out stuff,” Kat mumbles,adjusting the beach bag on her shoulder and hiding behind her towel.

“Yeah…just…you know, pole dancing, dominatrices, dildos,and a little bit of a lesbian lovefest…very suburban, boring, nothing toreport.” I grin.

Jodi’s eyes go wide, and Kat hits me on the arm. “Lauren!”

“Holy crap hell! Do tell!” Jodi rhymes.

“What?” I say to Kat, who squints menacingly my way.

We reach a shady spot on the beach under some palm trees.Ten blue mats are set up, and several other participants have already arrived.We drop our belongings in the sand and grab three spots at the back of thegroup. Jodi positions herself between Kat and me.

I’m not going to feel bad. I mean, this is Jodi. It’s notlike I’m going to spill Kat’s secret to the whole world.

“I think it would be good for both of us, actually, Kat.To unburden ourselves,” I say, stretching.

Jodi looks at us with really fake sincerity, because she’sso thirsty for gossip that she can’t even pretend that she isn’t thrilled.“Yes! Unburden.”

Kat pulls her hair off her face and tucks it into a hat,buying time. “Well, I really think we should begin by discussing myfriend’s awesomely sexy dance moves, which inadvertently left ourhostess with the need for six stitches across her left cheek.”

“Touché,” I say.

“Ouch!” Jodi says.

“Welcome.” Debbie smiles, palms pressed together over herheart. We mimic the pose. “Let us begin with a series of sun salutations.”

I work my way through the movements, and then, when Ithink it’s safe enough to talk, continue the conversation, sotto voce.“Although, I think the better story is how my awesomely sexylittle friend here got the new female school board president drunk, andthen fooled around with her in the guest bedroom.”

“Nice!” Jodi says, peering up at Kat through her legs, ina Downward Dog pose.

“Did I mention that this female that Kat fooled aroundwith is also a girl? Like Kat? A female woman girl?” I say, my faceturning red as the blood rushes to it. I move from Downward- to Upward-FacingDog.

“Yup! Caught it the first time!” Jodi says. “Katy Perry,here she comes!”

“Hey, that was my line!” I add enthusiastically.

“Shh,” warns a man in a Speedo in the row in front ofours. He moves into Warrior II and we follow suit, remaining quiet for a fewminutes.

The ocean is peaceful and still as the sun begins to droplower in the sky. A slight breeze moves across the beach and cools

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