Chapter 3 — The Coffee Shop Reconnection

Mia

The coffee shop door jingled as Jake held it open for me, his pizza delivery jacket still clashing horribly with my emerald dress. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around us like a warm hug, mingling with the faint aroma of vanilla and cinnamon. For a moment, I almost forgot the disaster that was my prom night.

“Welcome to the land of overpriced lattes and existential crises,” Jake said with a mock bow, gesturing at the mismatched furniture and shelves of second-hand books lining the walls.

I snorted despite myself, my heels clicking softly against the worn wooden floor as I stepped inside. The warm glow of the café lights reflected off the chalkboard menu, where colorful chalk advertised drinks like “Mocha Madness” and “Latte of Enlightenment.” A young barista hummed along to an indie song playing in the background, her movements fluid as she maneuvered the espresso machine.

And then I saw him.

Drew Martinez, my former math tutor, was hunched over a table by the window, his wire-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose as he scribbled furiously into a notebook. His button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. Drew had always had this quiet, unassuming presence, but the intensity of his focus made him seem almost magnetic.

Jake followed my gaze and grinned. “Well, if it isn’t the human calculator himself. Go on, say hi.”

I hesitated. Drew and I hadn’t spoken much since he’d helped me survive calculus last semester. He was nice—sweet, even—but we lived in different worlds. I was the overachiever with a packed schedule and a polished image to uphold. He was the shy, studious guy who faded into the background.

But tonight wasn’t about sticking to my comfort zone, was it?

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to his table. “Drew?”

He looked up, startled, and for a moment, his hazel eyes widened in recognition. “Mia! Wow, hi. What are you doing here?”

“Long story,” I said, sliding into the chair across from him. “Let’s just say my prom night didn’t exactly go as planned.”

His gaze flickered to my dress, then to Jake, who was already at the counter ordering something with enough whipped cream to clog an artery. Drew adjusted his glasses nervously, his fingers brushing the edge of his notebook. “I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

“Same,” I admitted, leaning back in my chair. “What about you? Late-night study session?”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Kind of. I’ve got a college entrance interview tomorrow, and I’m trying to prepare.” He gestured to the notebook in front of him, filled with neat equations and bullet points.

“Of course you’re preparing,” I said, a hint of teasing in my tone. “Classic Drew.”

His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink, and his fingers fidgeted with the corner of the notebook. “Well, it’s a big deal. The program’s super competitive, and I guess I just… don’t want to mess it up.”

He cast his eyes down as he spoke, his thumb nervously tracing the spine of his notebook. I noticed a small scribbled-out mistake in the margin of one of his pages, the ink smudged as if erased in frustration. Something about that imperfection struck a chord. I’d always thought of Drew as the guy who had everything figured out, at least academically. Seeing him like this—fidgeting and uncertain—was both surprising and oddly familiar.

“You’ll do great,” I said, and I meant it. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

Drew smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you. You’ve always seemed so… confident. Like you have everything together.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Confident?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, his voice low and hesitant. “You’re always so composed, so determined. It’s like you know exactly where you’re going and how to get there.”

If only he knew.

I glanced down at the emerald hairpin in my lap, twisting it between my fingers. Its cool surface felt smooth and unyielding, much like the image I worked so hard to maintain. A memory flashed in my mind—last fall, when I’d stayed up all night rewriting an essay that had only earned an A-minus the first time. The panic, the exhaustion, the overwhelming fear of not being good enough. Drew’s words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

“Trust me, Drew, it’s not as effortless as it looks. It’s a lot of smoke and mirrors, honestly.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. Drew tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

I hesitated, my chest tightening. How could I explain the constant pressure, the fear of failure that gnawed at me every time I fell short of my own impossible standards? How could I admit that the person he admired was just a carefully constructed façade?

I opened my mouth to answer, but Jake’s voice cut through my thoughts as he approached the table, a tray balanced in his hands. “I got you a hot chocolate. Figured you could use something sweet, considering your bitter mood.”

I rolled my eyes but took the cup, the warmth of it grounding me in the present. Jake plopped down in the chair next to me, his grin as wide as ever. “So, Drew, what’s new in the thrilling world of polynomial equations?”

Drew laughed, visibly relaxing. “Not much, really. Just trying to survive like everyone else.”

“Survival is overrated,” Jake said, taking a sip of his monstrosity of a drink. “Thriving is where it’s at. Right, Mia?”

I gave him a look. “You’re the one who thrives on making bad jokes.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta keep things light around here,” he shot back, winking.

Drew watched our exchange with a small smile, his gaze flickering between us. “You two are close, huh?”

“As close as a pizza delivery guy and a perfectionist can be,” Jake said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “She keeps me grounded, and I keep her… slightly less uptight.”

I elbowed him, but I couldn’t help smiling. “Barely.”

For a moment, the three of us sat in companionable silence, the hum of the coffee shop filling the gaps between words. Drew seemed more at ease now, his earlier nervousness fading.

“So,” he said, turning back to me, “are you still planning to go to prom? Or is this your alternative adventure?”

I shrugged, staring into my hot chocolate. The steam curled upward, carrying the faint scent of chocolate and vanilla. “Honestly, I don’t know. Prom was supposed to be… perfect. And now it’s just… not.”

Drew nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes things don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.”

His words hung in the air, simple yet profound. I glanced at him, wondering how someone so quiet could say something so heavy.

“Maybe,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

Jake clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, team, time to move out. We’ve got more ground to cover.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re awfully invested in salvaging my night.”

“Of course I am,” he said, grinning. “I live for the drama.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “Good luck, Mia. And… if you do go to prom, I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

“Thanks, Drew,” I said, standing up. “Good luck with your interview. Not that you’ll need it.”

He smiled, and this time, it reached his eyes. “See you around.”

As Jake and I walked out of the coffee shop, the night air hit me, cool and refreshing. I glanced back through the window, catching one last glimpse of Drew as he returned to his notebook, his pen moving steadily across the page.

“Nice guy,” Jake said, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. “Kind of intense, though.”

I nodded, Drew’s words still swirling in my mind. Sometimes things don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.

“Where to next?” I asked, linking my arm with Jake’s.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’ve got a plan. You’re gonna love it.”

Somehow, I doubted that. But for the first time tonight, I was willing to let go and see where the night would take me.