Tonight the Streets Are Ours

“I think it’s given me some perspective,” her mother replies. “It’s been good for me. But I miss you so much. You know I had never been apart from you for longer than one night since you were born. So being away for months has been … well, it’s been really hard.”


Arden had never measured these things before, but she realizes now that her mother is right—the only times she’d been away from her mom for longer than the length of a school day was when she started having sleepovers at friends’ houses. Roman can’t even claim that: he still refuses to sleep over anywhere. Even more now, Arden sees the similarity to her situation with Lindsey. She did need to leave Lindsey. But now she needs to find her again. And hope that they can rebuild from here.

“Are you ever going to come home?” Arden asks her mother.

Her mother takes a deep breath. “Do you want to know honestly?”

“Yes.” After her night with Peter, Arden has decided that she prefers hard truths over pretty lies.

“I don’t know. Your father and I are in communication, as you’re aware. We’re working through things, together and individually. I may come home. We may separate on a more permanent basis. But if that happens, we will work out a joint custody agreement that’s as fair as possible to everyone. You and Roman will always be my children and I’ll always be your mother. Like it or not, kid, you’re stuck with me.”

“Joint custody,” Arden repeats. “So would we, like, come to New York every weekend?” She looks around the apartment. “Where would we even sleep? And we should get a say in this. What if we don’t want to come to New York that often? Would you move back closer to us?”

“Arden. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Like I said, that might not even happen. What you need to do right now is tell your dad where you are, before he calls the police. Which maybe he already has.”

Arden sighs and goes to get her phone from the charger. On her way across the room, her mother stops her and envelops her in a hug.

“I didn’t know if you would ever be willing to talk to me,” Arden’s mother says quietly. “Thank you for coming here.”

That is not why Arden came to New York, but she doesn’t tell her mother that, because the reason she came here is not relevant anymore.

Arden turns her phone on and it goes crazy registering all the messages and phone calls she’s missed over the past twelve hours. Four texts from Chris asking, with increasing degrees of annoyance, when she is going to be free to hang out. A text from Roman asking if she can pick him up from his hockey game. A text from her father also asking if she can pick up Roman, followed by a text from her father asking her to please call him, followed by a text in all caps saying WHERE ARE YOU?, followed by three missed calls and voice mails. Nothing from Lindsey, which could mean she is still mad and waiting for Arden to call her first, or could mean her phone died in the night, or could mean she is unconscious in an alley somewhere.

Arden skips over the texts and just telephones her father. He answers immediately. “Arden! Where have you been? Are you okay?” The panic in his voice is evident, and amazing because it sounds exactly like he cares.

Arden can’t help the smile spreading across her face, or the laughter in her voice as she says, “I’m fine, Daddy.”

“Don’t you laugh, young lady. It is not a joking matter for you to run off like this. Where are you? And don’t say you’re at the Matsons’, because I already spoke with them, and I know you and Lindsey aren’t there.”

“I’m with Mom,” Arden says. “In New York.”

“You went to New York without telling me?” he shouts.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

“I have every right to yell at you, Arden, because you scared the hell out of me. What would I do if anything had happened to you? What made you think you could run off to a different state without checking with me first? I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, I really don’t. You used to be a good kid. And now you’re sneaking around, using drugs, going hundreds of miles away and lying about it—I feel like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“You don’t,” Arden says.