Susane Colasanti - Now and Forever

“Something tangy. Spicy mustard, maybe?”

“Done.” Georgia springs off the stool and comes around the counter to dig through the refrigerator. Mom always keeps it stocked with whatever I want. I make a grocery list for her every week. We usually go grocery shopping together when she’s around on weekends. It’s our thing.

“You’re running low on spicy mustard,” Georgia announces, her head in the refrigerator. “How about something with orange?”

“Oooh, Jamie Oliver does a sage and orange dressing you’d love.”

“We have liftoff!”

I love that Georgia gets as excited about cooking as I do.

We take our salads over to the couch. My laptop is waiting on the coffee table. We look at pictures from last night again. Tons of comments are still coming in.

Could you possibly be more gorgeous? Love everything about this pic—the lights, the angle. Great shot.

Ethan, your music is elevating the industry standard at a time when music that means something is rarely being produced. Thank you for the enlightenment.

ur sooooo cute!!!!!

There’s been a huge spike in Ethan’s followers since yesterday. Could that have been from the show? I check his fan page. Someone posted a video from the show that already has over ten thousand views.

We go to his website. The “Night on Fire” video has a lot more comments. Even his older videos are getting way more comments now.

“Wow,” Georgia marvels, “Ethan’s a freaking rock star.”

“Look at this.” I point at the most depressing comment on the “Night on Fire” video:

awsome u look so hottt ur my fav musisan I wnt 2 met u on day lv jen age 11

“Does anyone know how to spell anymore?” Georgia says.

“It’s a dwindling skill. Beyond depressing. It should not be hard for people to spell words correctly. Hot with three Ts? How pathetic is it when misspelled words are actually longer than the correct spelling?”

“Maybe this new generation is a group of aliens who’ve come to Earth to abduct our intelligence.”

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if I could edit Ethan’s comments? These fangirls wouldn’t even know how to read them.”

Georgia looks at me. “It really bothers you.”

“Of course it does! These girls are making themselves look like idiots. Is that the best they can do?”

“Why does it bother you so much?”

“You know my relationship with typos is volatile.”

“Oh, I know. But there’s not much we can do about the fangirls. That’s how they write.”

“You’re right. I should chill. He has plenty of smart fans. Some of these comments are clearly from Yale students.”

“And teachers and doctors and PhD candidates. Everyone loves Ethan.”

It’s astounding how widespread Ethan’s appeal is. Which is exactly what he needs to blow up even more. After all of his dreaming and hoping and hard work, his time is finally here. Typos and all.

[355,707 FOLLOWERS]

Oh my god.

Ethan’s first single is on the radio.

Shut. UP.

I’m so excited I can hardly work my phone to call him.

“Hey,” Ethan answers like nothing’s going on. Like the moment we’ve been waiting for isn’t happening right this very second .

“So I guess you’re not listening to Z100.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“It’s on?!” I hear Ethan turn on his radio. Both our radios have been set to Z100 for any Invincibles news. It’s basically all I’ve been playing for the past two weeks. I turned my radio on the second I got home from school today. “I thought it wasn’t coming on until tomorrow.”

“You’re on the radio, baby!”

“Holy shit.”

We’re quiet for a few seconds, listening to “Night on Fire” fill our rooms. I imagine all of the other rooms it’s playing in. All of the people hearing Ethan for the first time. All of his fans who’ve been waiting for this moment right along with us.

“This is it,” Ethan says with a shaky laugh.

“This is it,” I confirm.

“We have to celebrate. I’ll pick you up in ten.”

I dash to my computer to check Ethan’s fan page. Comments are popping up like crazy.

You are on Z100 right now, Ethan Cross! You sound amazing! Congrats!!

girl you got me wired 3am not even tired there will never be another night on fire

Welcome to the big time, baller. Don’t stop never stop.

By the time Ethan rings my bell, I’m so excited for him that I’m actually trembling. He’s smiling all big when I open the door.

“Hello, rock star,” I coo.

Ethan swoops in, picks me up, and twirls me around in one smooth motion. His arms are even more ripped than they were last week. He’s getting crazy strong now that he’s working out six days a week. He’s doing three days of cardio or hip-hop dance, two days of weight training, and one day of running or other outdoor activities. And he has pickup basketball games with friends in his limited free time.

“Working out much?” I say.

“Not enough.” Ethan gently puts me down. He kisses me.

Then he keeps kissing me.

“I thought we were going out to celebrate,” I remind him.

“This is celebrating.” Ethan slides his hands under my shirt.

“My mom’s going to be home any minute.”

“What? Why?”

“Um, she lives here?”

“How dare she.” Ethan kisses me one last time. “Are you in a Notch mood?”

The Notch is like the only place to hang out around here. It’s a mall with a bunch of standard stores, plus a movie theater and bowling alley. Lately we’ve been hanging out there at Shake Shack. It’s the closest we can get to a social scene without driving half an hour to New Haven.

“That’s the best you can come up with?” I tease. “You’re on the freaking radio . How long have you been waiting for this?”

“I know, but I can’t bail on training. There’s no time to drive to New Haven.”

“Then let’s hit Shake Shack.”

Ethan checks his watch. “Yeah, that’ll work. I need carbs.”

There are all these rules about what Ethan can eat when. He’s been doing five small meals a day. He has to have carbs an hour and a half before cardio for energy. He has to do a protein shake twenty minutes after lifting, to help build muscle mass. Sometimes I’ll make his breakfast, lunch, and snack the night before and give him a big bag with everything before school. Cooking for him makes me happy.

When we get to the Notch, I can feel a difference. Nothing is different specifically. It’s more like . . . the air is charged in a way it never has been before. Girls have always looked at Ethan. He gets noticed wherever we go. But now it seems like everyone is noticing him. Even, like, dads. You can feel people turn their heads to watch Ethan when we walk by. Maybe it’s that he’s more confident now with his first single out. Or maybe people are starting to know who he is outside of school.

We go to Shake Shack. I get my usual: portobello burger, cheese fries, and a large strawberry lemonade. Ethan gets the same, minus the cheese on his fries. Then he changes his mind about the strawberry lemonade. He orders a small Diet Coke and a water.

“You never get the portobello burger,” I say. We put our trays down at a corner booth.

“My trainer wants me off red meat.”

“And what’s with the Diet Coke? Since when do you drink diet anything?”

“Since my trainer threw down calorie restrictions. Remember that chart I showed you?”

I stab a cheese fry with the little wooden spear. Whenever Ethan talks about his trainer, it makes me feel bad about anything I eat in front of him that isn’t broccoli.