Susane Colasanti - Now and Forever

“Look at you, all famous. Will you still be friends with me when you’re an online star?”

“Fame could never rip us apart. Not again anyway.”

“Not even when I’m at Northwestern and you’re at the University of Vermont?”

“Not even then.”

It’s amazing how quickly life can turn around. One minute, you’re depressed and convinced that life will suck forever. But then you wake up. You start moving toward your goals. Doors open in unexpected ways. And before you even realize what’s happening, your life has meaning again.

Marisa and Nash used to hang out on this dock. The summer after tenth grade was really intense for them. I remember how Marisa glowed when she told me about those summer nights here on the dock with Nash, making out under the stars.

Ethan and I won’t be making out tonight.

I dangle my legs over the side of the dock while I wait for him. Water reflects sky, a dazzling orange sunset. I watch the river moving. I contemplate how the water is constantly going somewhere, yet it’s still right here.

When Ethan walks out to me on the dock, I visualize this as a movie scene. This is the part where the boy comes for the girl. But it’s not the kiss at the end of the movie you’ve been waiting for the whole time.

This is the part where they say goodbye.

“Hey,” Ethan says. He sits down next to me.

“Hey.”

“Pretty sunset.”

Ethan Cross has obviously grown out of this small town. He couldn’t possibly be a bigger superstar. Even kicking back in board shorts and his MUSICIAN shirt, he still radiates that magnetic energy famous people do.

“Thanks for seeing me,” he says.

“No problem.”

“I just wanted a chance to say I’m sorry. And to tell you what happened.”

I wasn’t ready to listen before. Now I am.

“Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do,” Ethan says. “It killed me that you found out the way you did. I should have told you right when it happened.”

“Just to be clear . . . when what happened?”

“When I made the stupidest mistake of my life. When I . . . hooked up with that girl.”

“That girl? You’re not together anymore?”

“Of course not. We were never together. It was only a few stupid times.”

“Was she really a fan?”

“Yeah.” Ethan laughs. “How amateur is that?”

I watch the water. Flowing forward. Standing still. A lot like the way I learned to be present in yoga. Grounded yet flexible to change.

“You have to know how sorry I am.” Ethan touches my hand. “I am so, so sorry for what I did to you, Sterling. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Why did you do it?”

“There’s no excuse for my bad behavior.” He squeezes my hand. “The worst part is that I threw away everything we had. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” I hate that I miss Ethan. But I do. This whole time I’ve been struggling to ignore his attempts to communicate. Telling myself he’s not worth it. Warning myself against setting us up for the same catastrophic failure. He cheated on me once. How do I know he won’t cheat again?

Ethan puts his hand on my cheek, softly turning my face toward his. “Is there a chance for us?”

Part of me is screaming yes. Last summer, I couldn’t imagine us not being together. Now here we are a year later. So much has happened. So much we can’t take back. It wouldn’t work even if I forgave him. Ethan is moving to LA. I’m going to college on the opposite coast. Not seeing him when we were together was excruciating. Being away from the boy you love is pure torture. I can’t put myself through that again.

He’s looking deep into my eyes. Waiting for my answer.

“I don’t think so,” I say.

Ethan nods, pulling his hand away from my face. “That makes sense. I’m not good enough for you anyway.” He gives me a bittersweet smile. “You deserve much better than me.”

This is it. For real. I may never see Ethan again after today. It blows my mind to think that I may never see Ethan again for the rest of my life.

“Did you see The New York Times Magazine article?” he asks.

“Of course.” The big Ethan Cross cover story came out a couple weeks ago. Naturally, Ethan looked amazing on the cover. All of the photos inside were gorgeous. Even the candid shots were gorgeous. But what impressed me the most was how perfectly the reporter captured the essence of who Ethan is and the impact he wants to make on the world. I didn’t have to worry about negative material wrecking the article. The reporter referred to some rumors and less-than-desirable behavior on Ethan’s part, but he focused on the positive side of Ethan’s career. Especially why his music appeals to everyone. That focus apparently inspired the title of the article. It was called “Ethan Cross for Everyone.”

“Do you remember the last line?” Ethan says.

I laugh. “Oh, yeah. That was classic.” The last line was almost like the reporter saw our breakup coming. Ethan Cross is in the rooms and hearts of so many girls, it’s hard to believe he can belong to any one of them .

We watch the water for a while. Not saying anything. Two people who used to mean everything to each other, sitting side by side in the silence between them.

“Look what I brought.” Ethan takes the mati out of his pocket. “Too bad my good-luck charm didn’t work on the one day I needed it the most.”

It’s sweet that he felt nervous about seeing me. But this isn’t about Ethan anymore. This is about my life and what I’m going to do with it. I have my own lucky charm now. Mom found it in Gram’s safety deposit box. It’s a butterfly pin with amethyst gems. Gram used to wear it pinned to her scarves when I was little. She would smile when I admired it. I know that’s why she left me the pin. She was hoping it would make me smile the same way.

Mamaroneck is about halfway between Far Hills and Manhattan. Tonight is their last Summer Nights on the Sound event. They’re giving free swing dance lessons. Then everyone gets to dance. It sounded like something Damien might be into. I remember him saying he wanted to learn how to swing dance. So I asked him to meet me there. He’s still staying at his friend’s place in New York, working at a new venue that’s supposed to be the next big hot spot.

I arrive early and find a parking spot. There’s supposed to be a vintage red phone booth on the corner. We’re meeting in front of it. I find the phone booth. Then I wait, trying not to look as nervous as I feel.

The sight of Damien walking toward me makes my heart flutter. How is he even cuter than I remember?

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I say.

“You look really pretty.”

“Thanks.” I tried on seven dresses when I was getting ready. This floaty floral one was the first dress I tried on. Not sure why I was doubting its adorableness.

“I know we’re here to dance, but I have to tell you something first. I can’t hold it in anymore. Is that okay?”

I nod. It’s amazing how after I found closure for myself, everyone around me became motivated to find their own closure. As if we’re all connected on a level we can’t perceive.

“Not telling you about Ethan was my lame attempt at protecting you. I was seriously hoping it was just a rumor. Or that Ethan would say something to you. I found out like a day before the last show and couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing you one last time. Or if I’d told you about the girl and it was true and you ended up taking Ethan back anyway . . . If you wanted to pretend that nothing happened . . . I just couldn’t watch. Not when I care about you so much.”