Page 94 of The Problem with Perfect

“You know, when I share with people where I went on my very first date, I should make it a game and see if I can get them to bet money. There is no way anyone will ever guess you took me to eat at The Pines cafeteria.”

We both laugh, but when it starts to trail off, I can tell Rusty has something on his mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t put more thought into our date the first time,” he says softly, his eyes sincere. “It never occurred to me that it would be your first date, or how it would feel to have me take you to your work for dinner.”

I shake my head. “You don’t need to apologize.” Reaching over, I place my hand on his. “Thank you for taking the time to set this up. It was fun and unexpected and special.”

His lips tilt up at the sides. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

We don’t have a lot of time at The Pines. Rusty has to get back to work and I need to get home to study before my shift at Dock 7, but when we leave, he holds my hand the entire drive back to my house.

My smile never fades.

* * *

It takes me forever to find parking for the There and Back Again Swim Competition on Saturday morning, most of my go-to places already filled, and ultimately I end up in a spot in the gravel lot at the Cedar Cider construction site and walk the fifteen minutes to South Bank Marina.

In years past, parking was never an issue. Instead of milling about in the ticketed areas downtown, I used to sit on our dock with my dad, each of us having dragged down one of the chairs from our back deck. We’d watch the swimmers as they passed us by, heading up to Miller Landing, then again after they rounded the buoy and were on their return trip back to South Bank.

This year, Jackson accidentally let it slip that Rusty’s competing. Apparently he didn’t tell anyone, and the only reason Jackson knows is because Cedar Cider sponsors a swimmer and he happened to glance at the swimmer’s name.

This year, it’s Rusty.

I talked to Abby, and we bought a few of the remaining tickets in the seats set up at the finish line. It’s going to cost me a few full shifts at The Mitch to pay for mine, but it’s worth it, no matter what place he comes in.

“I still can’t believe he’s swimming in this race,” Abby says as we stand in line to grab a drink before it begins. “And that he didn’t tell us.”

“I don’t even remember him being a swimmer.”

Abby nods. “He swam competitively in high school and even competed in some national events during college.”

I think back to the day we went out on the boat with Connor and Stace, how he just sliced through the water like a warm knife through butter.

“Do you think he’s expecting to win?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. I mean, I know he still goes swimming a lot, even when the lake is super cold, but I honestly can’t remember the last time we actually talked about him swimming, so I don’t know.”

We chat a little bit more about how work is going for her at Ruthie’s and the names she’s been brainstorming for the social media account she wants to create before making it to the front of the line. We each order a hard slushy in a freezing cold collector’s mug before meandering slowly through the crowd and over to our little platform of seats.

The thing I love about Cedar Point is that events like this are super successful because everybody comes out. There are fifteen sections of seats spread out on different docks throughout the marina, and I know there are many others along the shorelines at various parks stretching all the way up the lake to Miller’s Landing.

People in this town are fans of supporting a cause, and since the desire for a new library to break ground next year is a big one, everyone is happy to pour their dollars in. Plus, the committee that plans the competition was able to get the competition on some kind of national swimming event website, so there were far more registrations than normal. With each person needing a sponsor and an expectation of raising funds for the cause, I’d guess the final amount raised will be staggeringly different than years past.

When we find our seats, I’m thankful to see we have a direct line of sight to the finish line. We can also see the group of swimmers at the edge of the water jumping in to get wet then climbing up a small hook ladder to line up. I’ve never watched the swimmers dive off the platform and into the water, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with nerves not just for Rusty, but for all of them.

“I wonder what it’s like to jump into the water in a big group like that,” I say. “I feel like it would be really easy to get kicked in the head.”

Abby laughs, and I join her, but it cuts off when I spot Rusty stepping up to the edge and glancing down at the water a few feet below the dock, shaking his arms and legs loose. My eyes scan him up and down, appreciating his trim, muscular physique in a speedo. I’ve never been a particular fan of the look, but Rusty has me reconsidering.

My admiration comes to a halt, however, when I spot another familiar face in the group of competitors standing just a few feet away from Rusty.

Connor.

The two of them stare each other down, and I can see them exchanging words, though I have no idea what’s been said. After their brief interaction, Rusty walks away and Connor jumps into the water.

It’s hard not to assume Rusty is competing because Connor is. The two of them have been in a bristly, low-simmer feud ever since I declared that Rusty and I were dating, and apparently, Connor blames Rusty for Stace breaking up with him and leaving Cedar Point. There’s a small part of me that wants nothing more than a chance to tell Connor off, but ultimately, I’m over him entirely. The truth is, he just doesn’t matter. Not anymore.

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