Tonight the Streets Are Ours

“What?” Arden stopped hopping. She sat down on the bed. “You’re not going to be able to come … where?”


“To wherever our anniversary surprise is,” he explained.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re doing an all-cast meet and greet this evening, and I have to be there by six.”

“But that’s such short notice.”

“It’s not my choice. They’re on a tight schedule and they’re going to start shooting next week. That’s just how indie films work.” He said this last sentence in a bit of a pompous tone, like he was an expert on how indie films work, like he hadn’t just been cast in his first film all of five minutes ago.

“Why don’t you just tell them that you can’t go?” Arden asked, clutching the phone. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror next to the closet. She thought she might look pale, but with all that makeup, she couldn’t even tell.

“Babe, I’m the youngest cast member. I’m the only one still in high school. I don’t want to seem like I have all these special needs and restrictions.”

“But it’s our anniversary,” Arden whispered, feeling so stupid, so girly, for caring.

“I know!” He groaned. “Trust me, I never, ever would have planned it like this. But it’s not something I get any say over. Do you want to just tell me what the surprise was going to be, or do you want to try to do it next weekend instead? Or tomorrow night, even?”

Arden looked around the hotel room. She looked at the brownies, neatly arranged in the best tin she could find in the pantry. She looked down at her dress, at her freshly shaved legs, at her pedicured toenails. “I want you to come now,” she said. “Please.”

“Babe.” Chris’s voice grew slightly exasperated. “I told you. I can’t. I was looking forward to this, too, I promise. But we can celebrate a little belatedly, and it will be just as special. This is my dream come true, remember?”

“Your dream is having a bit part in a low-budget movie about coal mining?” Arden asked. She knew this was a mean thing to say. But she felt mean.

“Getting a part in a movie, period,” Chris retorted, sounding stung. “You know that. I’ve worked toward this for my entire life. Can you please just be a little supportive?”

“Can I be a little supportive?” Arden stood up, her knees locked, her left hand curled in a tight fist. “Can I be a little supportive? Are you kidding me? All I do, Chris, is be supportive. That’s what I do. Do you feel like I don’t honor my blank check to you enough? Do you really want to say that to my face?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “What blank check?”

“I just wanted us to do this one thing together!”

“Babe, we do like every thing together. And we will celebrate our anniversary together, too—just not tonight. I’m sorry, I swear. Can you please not be so dramatic?”

She was silent. Because that was the first thing she’d promised him: no drama.

“In a few months, we’re going to look back on this together and laugh,” Chris promised. “We’ll go to the movie premiere and this whole thing will be just a distant memory.”

Arden swallowed hard. “Just go,” she said. “I hope you have the best night of your life.”

“Babe—”

“If you’re not going to come here right now, then I want to get off the phone with you,” she said. “Please.”

There was silence. “Okay,” he said at last. “Bye. I love you.”

“Bye,” she said.

They hung up, and she threw her phone onto the bed, hard. She threw herself down after it.