After finding out that I was a yoga teacher, my college roommates encouraged me to start a class and teach them. I agreed, charging 10 dollars per class and teaching four classes a week. But then, one day, they suddenly stopped showing up. I tried asking around, but no one would tell me what was going on. That’s when I found out my good friend, Emma Parker, had started her own yoga class, and everyone had switched to her instead. She only charged eight dollars per class. The thing is, Emma had only taken a few of my classes and wasn’t really qualified to be teaching yoga. Sure enough, she ended up injuring a student in class by being too rough with the support techniques and causing the student to break her leg. Today, not a single person showed up for my class. The dance studio, usually packed, was completely empty. I felt a wave of disappointment, thinking, “Was there some kind of school event I didn’t know about?” I packed up the mats and props and headed back to my dorm. But when I got back, I found out they’d already done yoga. I just stood there in the doorway, dumbfounded. “You didn’t come to my class, so where did you practice?” “The yoga studios outside the school usually charge over 100 dollars per class. Isn’t 10 dollars much cheaper?” I thought to myself. But no one said anything. They just glanced at me and went back to whatever they were doing. I felt really embarrassed. I turned to my roommate, Lily Woods, grabbing her shoulder. “Lily, what happened? Did I do something wrong?” She turned away, glared at me angrily, and shrugged my hand off forcefully. “Enough! I considered you a friend, but you totally screwed me over!” she shouted. I was completely confused and said, “I didn’t do anything!” Lily stepped forward, tilted her head back, and snapped, “You didn’t do anything? Then tell me how much a yoga teacher charges per class outside.” “You’ve asked the right person,” I thought. My family ran a chain of yoga studios, with both my mom and aunt being certified Iyengar instructors. I had been practicing professionally with them for years. By the time I was in high school, I was already a qualified advanced yoga instructor. So, I explained to Lily right away, “A yoga teacher teaching a corporate group of 15 at a studio can make 300 dollars per class!” “That’s complete bullshit!” she snapped, pushing me away furiously. “We’ve done our research, and the most a yoga teacher makes per class is 100 dollars!” I thought, “How is that possible? Where did she get this rumor from?” I panicked, with my heart racing. “My family…” “Your family what? Stop lying! We checked everything. The ‘Serenity Yoga’ you’re talking about isn’t even yours! The owner of that chain is someone named Parker!” Lily didn’t give me a chance to explain and turned to leave. I wanted to say that the legal representative of Serenity Yoga was actually my grandma!
Watching Lily storm off, I felt upset. But I knew she wasn’t a bad person. She was straightforward and cheerful. Maybe she was also a bit naive, which had made her used as a pawn for others before, not just once or twice. So, I was sure she wasn’t the one spreading that rumor. Who did this? I glanced over at my good friend Emma’s desk, where a few newly bought, unfamiliar yoga books were sitting. A thought popped into my head. Just then, Emma walked in after finishing up her wash. As soon as she saw me, there was a fleeting look of guilt and greed in her eyes—something hard to explain. But she quickly put on her usual smile and said, “Hey, sweetie, when did you get back?” I just stared at her, not saying a word. She came over and took my hands. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” Considering she was my best friend, but at the same time might be the one spreading the rumor, my tears suddenly started to fall. I was overwhelmed with hurt. “Emma, are you the one…” Before I could finish, a group of classmates rushed into the room. It was Belle Dassler who showed up with the other classmates. She shouted angrily, “Sophia Johnson! You money-grubber! You’re even scheming against your own classmates!” “Exactly! Are you some wild child raised without a sense of responsibility?” I was so scared that I kept backing away. Emma quickly ducked behind a classmate for cover. Belle’s face came right up to mine as she viciously demanded, “Sophia Johnson! You promised us you’d get us in touch with the factory and get us those yoga mats at the cheapest price. Don’t you have any shame?” Hearing her words, I was trembling with anger. “The factory sold them to us at the wholesale price of 68 dollars and even threw in yoga bricks and stretch bands!” Belle threw two yoga bricks at my face. “Who the hell wants your crappy yoga bricks? Take them back!” “That’s right! Giving away gifts? They were clearly just the leftovers!” Blood immediately started gushing from my nose. Fear flashed across the faces of my classmates, but it vanished just as quickly. I grabbed some tissues and held them to my nose, sniffling, “I have the chat logs with the factory owner. You can take a look.” “Pfft! Chat logs can be faked! You’re both in on it! Who would believe you?” Belle pointed at me and cursed, “Don’t give me that pity act! Refund the money for the yoga mats, now!” “Exactly! We want a refund!” “Give us back the extra charges for the classes too!”
I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Fine, whatever. I’ll refund them! But if I do, I won’t have any friends like you anymore!” “Who the hell wants to be your friend, you Ebenezer Scrooge!” “Haha, that’s right. Let’s call her Sophia Scrooge!” My nose was still bleeding, and I felt a little dizzy. “Give… give me back the yoga bricks and stretch bands I gave you as gifts…” Belle snickered, “You deceived us, and that’s payment enough.” “You guys are going too far. You know how much yoga mats cost in the market,” I cried, grabbing a few more tissues. “Then how did Emma find our yoga mats for 38 dollars?” Hearing this, my heart sank. I stopped crying instantly. I looked up and saw Emma, my best friend, standing behind the others. She quickly gave me a glance and then stepped forward, pulling everyone apart. “Alright, let’s calm down. I think that even if Sophia didn’t handle things right, she did help us practice before. We should be grateful to her.” “Pfft! You think we should thank her? No way! She charged us way too much!” “Totally! We’re all students with limited means, but she took advantage of us. She’s really despicable!” Emma stood in front of me, almost like she was defending me. “Didn’t she get punished already? Look, she’s bleeding.” “Serves her right!” “Okay, we’ll cut you some slack because of Emma, but you better refund the money today!” Belle tilted her head and said to me. The group of them left my dorm in a huff. Someone turned back and asked Emma, “Emma, what time will you teach us tomorrow?” Emma quickly glanced at me, then whispered, “I’ll post it on Facebook later. Please wait for a moment.” Then she hurried out of the dorm. Lily, who had been silent the whole time, clenched her fists tightly. She seemed to have made up her mind and walked toward me. She handed me a warm towel. “Sophia… No matter whether what you did before was right or wrong, I should’ve helped you just now. I didn’t know they’d hurt you.” I pushed the towel away, and it seemed that my movement made Lily look disappointed. I forced a small smile and explained, “Thank you for your kindness, but these are all evidence. I can’t wipe it off.” “I’m sorry, Sophia. I’ll keep an eye on them from now on. If anyone dares to hurt you again, I’ll fight back.” Her words were the only warm comfort I had the whole night. I shook my head at her. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.” Then, I gathered up all the blood-soaked tissues, didn’t change my clothes, and called my mom. “Mom, please call the police for me. I got beaten.”
Lily wanted to accompany me to the police station, but I refused. She nervously said, “Sophia, maybe I misunderstood you. Just now, I didn’t see any guilt in your eyes—only fear and disappointment.” “Of course not. I didn’t do anything wrong, so why should I feel guilty?” She nodded repeatedly. “Exactly. It’s actually Emma—her eyes were darting around, like she was hiding something.” I gave a helpless smile. She finally had a smart moment. She grabbed my wrist and said, “Sophia! She’s lying, right? I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. I was so angry when I heard her talk about you, and I didn’t think clearly at the time.” I gently patted her hand. “It’s okay, just take care of yourself.” When she heard that, a small smile finally appeared on her face, but then a look of confusion crossed her face. “Take care of myself? What do you mean?” “I mean, don’t follow Emma exactly in her class.” “Got it!” My mom called me back at that moment. “Sophia, come downstairs. I’m at the east gate of your school. We’ll head straight to the police station.” Holding all the evidence, I rushed downstairs. As I was heading down, I passed by Belle’s dorm and she happened to see me. She shouted, “Are you out of your mind? What are you doing out so late?” Then Emma started shouting too. “Don’t let her get away! She’s trying to get out of paying the refund! Let’s bring her back!” By the time I reached the second floor, I could already hear heavy footsteps behind me, like they were chasing a thief. “Damn it, Sophia Johnson! Give us the refund!” “Refund the money! Don’t let her get away!” When I finally reached the door on the first floor, I didn’t stop—I kept running. My mom’s car was parked at the east gate of my school. I jumped in as quickly as I could and slammed the door shut. I looked back and saw those girls yelling at me, frantic and furious. Emma was panting from running, glaring at me with pure hatred. I suddenly felt a cold shiver run down my spine. Emma was a student from a poor background. One time, she casually said to me, “This world is so unfair. Some people have to walk miles to get to school, while others are born into families with cars.” I really wanted to comfort her at that moment, but then she said something that left me speechless. “All rich people should die!”
Emma was really good at pretending. I suddenly realized that from the very beginning, she wasn’t actually interested in learning yoga. At first, she complained that the classes were so tiring and everyone’s necks were about to break. Then she mentioned that yoga seemed really relaxing, and since I was good at it, I could teach them. I thought it would be fun for a group of college girls to get together and chat. So, I agreed. I figured it would just be a few people from my dorm practicing together. But then she went ahead and booked a dance studio. She actually gathered more than ten people for the class. She also told everyone not to let me work for free and that I should get paid for my time. She looked at me with those innocent big eyes and asked, “Babe, how much should we charge per person per class?” I glanced around at everyone, and the number of people was about the same as the smallest class size I usually had for my corporate courses. So, I thought, maybe I could cut the price in half and charge 150 dollars in total—just 10 dollars per person per class. For my corporate classes, each one lasted an hour. But for my classmates, every class I held was at least an hour and a half. I paid close attention to each person’s physical condition and adjusted my approach accordingly. My principle was never to pursue immediate results. I would never push anyone into a pose that looked impressive but wasn’t suitable for their body. My goal was for my students to gradually heal and improve their bodies—aligning the pelvis, realigning the lumbar spine, and restoring the natural curve of the cervical spine. Emma seemed incredibly flexible. But true practitioners understood that a stiff body often indicated better potential. It meant the joints were tight, and the ligaments had enough elasticity, which ultimately protected the body from injury. While it might look a bit clumsy, it was actually a good thing. Emma was the complete opposite. She could do advanced poses right from the first class. However, after observing closely, I noticed that her pelvis was severely tilted forward, and her knees hyperextended quite a lot. If she wasn’t careful, it could easily lead to fractures, which is a common issue in yoga practice. But when I thought about it, I realized she didn’t really take my advice seriously. In fact, she even seemed to think I was jealous of her. The classmates all praised her natural talent. They said things like, “Emma, you’re really made for yoga.” Some even remarked, “Look at Sophia! She’s been practicing for years and still can’t do the splits as easily as you.”
The classmates who had praised Emma before were all pretty eager for quick success. It seemed that it was exactly these irresponsible compliments that made her overestimate her own abilities, leading her to do things that hurt me. I’m afraid if they kept practicing yoga following her, it wouldn’t be long before they got hurt. “We’ve arrived, sweetie,” my mom gently patted my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts. The police, after receiving my mom’s call, had us go to the station to file a report right away. There were photos to be taken and evidence to be collected, and we had to contact the hospital for an injury check the next day. By 10:30 PM, I was finally allowed to leave. My mom then took me to the hospital for a quick check-up. The doctor said nothing serious, just some swelling and bruising on my nose. Only then did my mom feel relieved enough to take me home. “If it heals up, you won’t be able to get it checked tomorrow.” “Mom, there’s no way it’ll heal that fast.” She smiled and gave me a playful look. “I was just joking, see? You smiled.” I hugged her, feeling like a little kid again. She asked me what had happened as we walked home. I told her everything but still felt really angry. She put her arm around my shoulder and said, “People having differences in wealth shouldn’t be friends.” I stopped in my tracks and said, “Mom, I don’t agree with that. Throughout history, so many people have…” She interrupted me, “No, I’m actually not talking about financial differences, but the differences up here.” She tapped my head. I got it. Emma was short-sighted, focusing only on the small gains in front of her. She couldn’t even imagine that if she had just focused on her practice, I could’ve easily gotten her a spot at my mom’s company. Just then, my phone started ringing with a bunch of messages asking for refunds. I handed my phone to my mom. She smiled and asked, “So, what’s your plan?” “I want to refund everyone. That way, I can avoid any further entanglements and stop people from gossiping about it.” “You’re so smart! This way, even if they come back asking for your help again, they won’t have a leg to stand on.” Exactly. Thirty-eight dollars for a yoga mat and two dollars for a pair of yoga blocks—what kind of decent material could those possibly be made of? The yoga industry had already steered clear of these items. They had a strong, unpleasant smell. If left out in the sun, people would be breathing in that toxic air while practicing, which was a direct health risk. I sent a message to everyone. [I’ll refund you all, and I’ll even give you an extra 100 dollars each, but you need to return the yoga blocks and stretch bands I gave you.] Belle was the first to reply.
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