“New plant with attitude.”
“That’s how we do.”
I sit at the end of Georgia’s bed. She props herself against the pillows.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” I say. “You needed me and I wasn’t listening. I should have been a better friend.”
“No. You were living the dream life. Anyone would have gotten swept away.”
“Well, that life is over. You don’t have to worry about me getting swept away anymore.”
“What about Damien?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
I wish I didn’t get so flustered every time Damien comes up. I don’t want to think about him at all. But somehow, he won’t let me forget. He’s not calling me or anything. We haven’t talked since he left my place. He tried at first, though. I wouldn’t pick up or text him back. There was no point. He wasn’t honest with me. And after everything he went through with his parents? He should have known that keeping a huge secret from me would never work.
Georgia knows about how Damien stayed with me backstage before shows. She knows about our long talks on the phone, hours that felt like minutes. She knows how much I loved being with him.
She knows. And she knows I know she knows.
“He lied to me,” I say.
“Not really.”
“Yes, he did. Remember from Little Black Book? ‘Omissions are betrayals.’”
“True. But he was only trying to protect you.”
“If he wanted to protect me, he should have told me about the skank.” My face burns just thinking about how many people knew while I was completely oblivious at the last show. Waiting outside Ethan’s room while his bodyguard inadvertently threw me pity looks. Holding hands with Ethan in the thank-you circle before the show. Drew was in the circle. So was the rest of the band. Plus all the key players. Every one of them probably knew. None of them told me. But none of them knew me like Damien. He was my friend. He should have been the one to tell me.
“You like the way you feel when you’re with him, right?” Georgia says.
“Yeah. I don’t know anyone else like him. He’s amazing.”
“But not amazing enough to be forgiven for one mistake?”
She does have a point.
“What about you?” I counter. “Is Kurt treating you any better?”
“Kurt is history.”
“What? What happened?”
“I woke up. You were right. I was so desperate for him to like me. I was settling for someone who treated me badly because I couldn’t imagine feeling that way about anyone ever again. But I will. The right boy will adore me from the start. I won’t have to convince him to like me. Not that you can convince someone to like you. He’ll make it clear that he wants to be with me. I just have to trust that I’ll find him.”
It makes me so happy that Georgia is respecting herself. It sounds like she understands what I’ve also just realized.
The right boy doesn’t make your stomach twist into anxious knots. He doesn’t make you panic when he’s not calling. He doesn’t make you wonder who he’s out with. He fills you with peaceful certainty that your love was meant to be. He will support you no matter what. He’s always with you, even when he’s not. And you just know he wants to be with you now and forever. Because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
“How’s the video thing going?” Georgia asks.
“Awesome.” The day I emerged from the darkness was the day I realized that I have to respect the girl Gram loved. She wouldn’t want me wallowing over some boy. She would want me to hold on to my identity.
It was last Sunday. As I’d been doing since the last time I saw Damien, I woke up in a murky depression. I stayed in bed reading without absorbing the story. After scanning the same paragraph four times and still not being able to focus on the words, something snapped. I’d hit rock bottom. There was nowhere to go but up. So I threw back the covers, took a shower, and got ready. Then I filmed my first cooking video without even planning it. Just went into the kitchen and started sharing my top five cooking tips. The comments are really positive. They make me even more confident that I’m creating something that will help others. Unlike when I read the comments on Ethan’s page, I’m not afraid of potential negative snark. Negative comments wouldn’t shatter me the way the ones on Ethan’s page did. That girl is gone. “I’m up to a hundred and twenty-five followers.”
“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.
47
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. Eth
an 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.
48
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.”
Now I feel horrible for not listening to Damien when he tried to explain all this before. He really was trying to protect me. Like when I didn’t tell Ethan about the conversation I overheard where Gage was bitching about him. Sometimes we omit information that could potentially hurt a person we care about. Maybe that kind of omission isn’t a betrayal. “I’m sorry. I should have—”
“I’m not done.”
“You’re not? Because of course I forgive you. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain before.”
“Good. But there’s more.”
“Go for it.”
Damien takes a deep breath. “You know I’m a free spirit,” he says. “I like doing my own thing. I like not having to be in any one place for too long. Except things are different now. Now that you’re in my life.”
My pulse races.
“My whole thing was not worrying about tomorrow. But you make me want to see you tomorrow. And all the days after. You make me want to plan a better life. The better life I’ve been searching for.” Damien takes my hands in his. “You’re who I’ve been searching for.”
I open my mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. He’s literally shocked the words right out of me.
Then I find them. “I’m leaving for college next week.”
“I know. The good thing about being a free spirit is having the freedom to go wherever I want. I can move close to you, find a job there. I mean, if you want me to. Burlington has a few decent venues. A friend of mine works at one of them. He said he could hook me up.”
“Wow. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“Does that freak you out?”
“No. I guess it should. But it really doesn’t.”
“You sort of have a preoccupation with ‘should.’ This life thing isn’t about what you should do or how you should feel. It’s about living for today. Being happy in the Now and trusting that the future will unfold to bring more happiness. It’s about following your heart.”
That makes me smile. I promised Gram I would always follow my heart. There’s no going back now. Moving toward the life I want to be living is the only way to go. A new way of being. With lots of new adventures.
Damien’s eyes search mine. “So . . . what do you say?”
“I say . . . I think I need to be alone for a while.”
The sparkle goes out of Damien’s eyes. I hate that this might hurt him. But I think it’s important for me to be on my own so I can define my own life. I know it is.
“Not because I don’t want to be with you,” I explain. “I just need to get to a place where I feel happy and confident with myself. I need to fall in love with my own life before I can fall in love with someone else. When I’m happy with myself, I can make you happy.”
“You already make me happy.”
“I’m not rejecting you. This is the opposite of rejection. I’m doing what I need to do on my own to build a foundation for a more solid future with you.”
Damien nods. He closes the distance between us and presses his forehead against mine. “I hear you. Jumping straight into another relationship probably isn’t the best idea.”
“Exactly. I don’t want you to be my rebound. You mean more to me than that. We have the chemistry and connection. When the timing is right, we’ll be together.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I have no problem promising Damien that we’ll be together when I’m ready. I know it’s a promise I will definitely keep.
Could I even imagine that this is where I’d be a year ago? No way. Still, I know this is right where I belong. Sometimes the life you were meant to live doesn’t look the way you thought it would. But it’s just what you were looking for.
“So . . . can I see you at all?” Damien asks.
“Absolutely. I’m just not ready for a boyfriend right now. Don�
��t wait for me. Do your thing. We’ll both just keep that door open for the possibility of us.”
“My door will be wide open for you. Always.”
Damien leans down to kiss me. When our lips touch, I know this next chapter of my shiny new life has already been written. Without any typos.
I turn the page.
Acknowledgments
Eternal thanks to Kendra Levin, Regina Hayes, Ken Wright, and all the other friendly neighbors at Penguin Young Readers Group. I am extremely appreciative of your insight, determination, creativity, and wisdom over the past eight years. It has been an honor working with you.
Special thanks to my magnificent agent, Emily van Beek. Your talent, compassion, generosity, and grace are an inspiration to us all. Thank you for dreaming big and believing that we can turn those dreams into reality. You are my angel.
Many thanks to the teachers, librarians, and booksellers who have been such wonderful supporters over the years. You rule for spreading the love.
Glittery thanks to my readers. You are why I write. Thank you so much for making this life possible.
Ultimate thanks to the love of my life, Matt Huntington. After writing eight books about the kind of love I kept hoping to find, I’m so happy you’re finally here. I love you. Now and forever.
Jayd Jackson
SUSANE COLASANTI
is the bestselling author of When It Happens, Take Me There, Waiting for You, Something Like Fate, So Much Closer, Keep Holding On, and All I Need. Susane has a bachelor’s degree from the University of Pennsylvania and a master’s degree from New York University. Before becoming a full-time author in 2007, Susane was a high school science teacher for ten years.
You can connect with Susane at:
www.susanecolasanti.com
Now and Forever Page 17
