Finding Betsy (Betsy Jones Book 2)

Finding Betsy - Chapter 17

The class was held in a gym which sat above a row of slightly run down shops comprised of a newsagent, a laundrette, and a grubby fast food shop that looked twenty years past its prime. While she wouldn't ever class herself as a snob, Betsy was willing to admit that it was not a place she would have chosen to come to on her own. She would not have even thought to look for this place if it had not come highly recommended by others in her therapy group. Appearances could be deceiving after all. While the entire area looked a little worn and in need of some TLC, after the first few sessions, she had never felt better about her decision.

Walking up the carpeted stairs, it was the smell that hit her first. The musky scent of stale sweat. It always lingered in the air and, while at one time it would have made her wrinkle her nose, it now brought with it a sense of peace. Next came the sound of pleasant chatter of the other class members. She recognised their voices even though they had yet to come into view.

As she clambered to the top step, a wall of humid heat which smacked her in the face which carried the musky scent of sweat. It was an after effect of the class which ran immediately before. Even so, it still made her nose itch. At least in the cooler weather it was tolerable. In the summer, the additional heat made it feel as if she was walking into a tropical rainforest with all of the heat and humidity and none of the natural beauty - unless you counted the instructor who had to be one of the most incredibly beautiful women Betsy had ever seen. It wasn't the overt classical beauty, though she had that too, but something within her that shined through. Strength. Kindness. Understanding.

Betsy always felt herself gravitating to her much like a moth to a flame.

Stepping into the room, she paused just inside the threshold to kick off her shoes and socks. As she bent down to pick up her shoes and place them within the shoe rack, she felt a presence behind her. Lifting her eyes, she offered a small smile at the timid woman standing just inside the door. Betsy recognised her instantly. Her features had stuck with her. How could she not have? While their stories could be drastically different, she had seen some of herself in this stranger.

"Hey, you can put your shoes here." Betsy said by way of greeting, waving to the shoe rack. "Your bag and water bottle can go on the bench over there. We've got a few minutes so just get yourself settled in."

When the woman nodded in response, Betsy moved over to said bench, deposited her own things before leaning one hand against the wall. Using it for balance, she kicked her leg backwards up to her bum and then grabbed hold before it could drop. Carefully, she stretched out the muscles, enjoying the sensation of the tight muscles finally releasing. It was the curse of the desk job. After spending most of her days either hunched at her desk or hunched at a tiny table with her charges, her muscles always felt tight and uncomfortable.

She moved through the stretches carefully yet with little thought. She had done them so often in recent months that they were almost muscle memory. Betsy enjoyed this part of the class. The routine helped to ground her. It helped all of the petty concerns to fall away, including the upcoming interview with a magazine that Betsy would rather avoid. Why had she agreed to spending more time in the limelight?

With a shake of her head, she finished the last of her stretches before making her way into the center of the room. The chatter, which had been present since she entered the room, fell away. The instructor entered the room alone. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, her smile wide and welcoming as she moved to the center of the room. While she had a business partner, a six foot three marine covered in scars, he always made himself scarce during this class.

"Good morning, folks." The instructor greeted with a clap, her dark eyes scanning over the gathered group, before her lips curled up into her usual smile. "If you can all spread out, if you hold out your arms, you should not be able to touch the person beside you."