Page 31 of The Problem with Perfect

“Oh, that sucks.”

“It really does. You know, I’m not one to complain, though, so I’ve used it every day since we’ve been here with a smile on my face.”

“Yuck. Well hopefully today you’ll find a new morning routine.”

She grins. “Fingers crossed.”

It only takes a few minutes to get to the front and we put in our orders quickly—an iced mocha for me and an espresso for Stace—then step over to the side to wait.

“This place is really cute,” she says, her eyes scanning the space and taking everything in.

Even though I’ve been coming here since it first opened, I glance around as well, trying to see it through fresh eyes. Ugly Mug is a place people on TV would say has ‘character.’ Big couches are mixed in with café tables and chairs to accommodate various seating preferences. High ceilings are open to the wooden beams. One massive brick wall is covered in tchotchkes and antique signage acquired over the years, including the original, hand-painted Main Street sign from Cedar Point’s earlier days.

Because I did almost my entire degree online, I used to come in here several times a week to study. Basically, anything that was math-related I could do here. The hustle and bustle can’t break through my mental focus when I’m working with numbers.

For all my general education courses, however—literature, history, communication—I wore noise-canceling headphones in my bedroom and flipped a sign on my door so my parents would know not to bother me. It might sound childish, but it took all of my mental energy to complete a research paper about social issues facing Americans during desegregation or put together a presentation on the impact of Shakespeare’s works on modern literature. I couldn’t afford any distractions.

“Itispretty cute.” I point to a bulletin board next to the door covered in flyers. “You should check out the Bored Board, especially if you’re gonna be around for a while and want to do something fun. There’s info about group yoga classes and hiking trips, and people advertise for their businesses doing craft classes and boat excursions.”

I hear my name called from the counter, and I quickly grab my iced mocha.

“It’s a great way to meet people and find things to do,” I continue, slipping my sunglasses on as we step back out to Main Street.

Luckily, even with the busy season already begun, we’re able to grab a table on the sidewalk under the awning, giving us just the right amount of shade from the bright morning sun.

“I’ll definitely look into that, thanks.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes, me chewing on my straw and Stace’s eyes surveying everything and everyone we can see. It’s surprisingly easy to talk to her, not that we’ve hit on any real, important topics or anything. Some people just have that energy, that kind of positive, friendly sense about them, and Stace is, for better or worse, one of those people. It would be a whole lot easier on me if she wasn’t, but I’m starting to learn that life rarely gives you what you’re expecting.

“So, are you and Connor the same year? Did you graduate, too?”

She shakes her head. “Technically, I could have graduated, but I still have one more year left. I’m doing a 4-plus-1 nursing program that gives me both my bachelor’s and master’s in five years.”

“That’s so cool. What do you want to do with that?” I laugh. “I mean, I know you want to be a nurse, but…you know what I mean.”

Stace leans back in her chair, holding her coffee with both of her hands in front of her chest. “I really want to work as a women’s health nurse practitioner, hopefully in a free clinic or family planning center. Women face so many issues andsomany people don’t have access to healthcare.” She shrugs. “The pay will be horrible, but I’m just hoping to do something that helps people.”

My lips tilt up. “That’s really awesome.”

She grins. “Thanks. What about you? You mentioned the whole”—she waves her hand between us—“helping with financials thing at dinner, but I never asked.”

“I want to be a CPA, open a little business here in town. I just love numbers, and math is definitely a skill I have so it seems like a natural choice.”

“And how romantic that it brought you and Rusty together.” Her head tilts to the side, and she gets those hearts in her eyes again, the ones she had when she was looking at me and Rusty the other night at dinner. “He seems like a great guy.”

I nod and shift my cup of coffee around on the table, the condensation leaking down the sides, dripping through the openings of the wrought iron, and dropping down to my bare legs beneath.

“Rusty is a great guy. He’s…” I pause, thinking it over. “He’s one of those people who wants the people he loves to be happy, and that’s what guides most of his life. He’s very thoughtful and always puts family first.”

“Wow. I wish someone would givemethat kind of rave review.” Stace giggles. “Sounds like he might be the one?”

I take a deep breath and give what I’m sure is an awkward smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I feel a little young to be making a statement like that.”

Even as I say it, I want to snatch the words from the air and pull them back. Not only because just days ago, I was so sure Connor was the man for me, but also because Stace and I are the same age and I don’t want that to sound like a judgment.

“Not that it’s wrong or anything,” I’m quick to clarify. “I think everyone finds love at a different time, and for you and Connor, that’s great.”

The words feel thick in my throat, and I’m sure she can feel my lie like a palpable thing, but instead of shutting up, I just keep talking.

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