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“Nope, you’re being humble.” She gets in my face. “You’re really good. You
could be a guru. You could write a fucking book. Put yourself on the cover with a
catchy title.” She snaps her fingers. “Instant best seller.”
More chuckles. Sanya is just putting emphasis on book, but the rest take
fucking for the subject matter.

“Can we discuss this later?”
“Sure, but I don’t think we’ll have time. Think about it. I’d happily write a
testimonial.”
I can’t take it anymore. I am starting to become amused. I pull out my
cellphone and text her.
Henri: Thank you for the inaccurate endorsement. Sanya: It’s not
inaccurate. Why are we texting?
Henri: It’s inaccurate because the rest of the group doesn’t know you’re
talking about working out.
Sanya: What else would I be talking about?
I look at her and mouth, “Seriously?”
Henri: You have the whole bus thinking I’m a sex god.

She covers her mouth, then laughs so hard she snorts. I start to laugh with her.
It isn’t long before we are holding our sides, tears coming out of our eyes. We sober
a little.
Sanya: I said, “A Fucking Book.”
That starts another round of laughter.
Sanya: Do you want me to correct it?
Henri: Hell no.
We teeter some more because it hurts to laugh.
Sanya: It’s okay. You probably are a sex god.
I can’t help but respond. I send the text before I overthink it.
Henri: Only one way to find out.

Sanya