The Appearance of Annie van Sinderen

“This is amazing!” Tyler’s going on. “I admit, I didn’t believe it. Not at first. God! And you’re in Shuttered Eyes! That’s incredible. Wait ’til I tell the gallery. They’re going to freak, I swear. Wes, you have to put her in Most. For serious. There’s never been a documentary like that before. Not a real one. Just let them try and not let you transfer, if you actually put her in Most.”


“Gallery? Shuttered Eyes?” Annie’s looking between him and me, but she’s smiling like it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. She’s just glad to be here. With us.

With me?

“Hey. Let’s get pizza,” I say, and it feels like the most reasonable thing anyone has ever said in the history of ever. The pizza of reason.

“Definitely. God. Or a drink,” Tyler says.

At the thought of a drink, my stomach sinks.

Maddie. I’m supposed to meet her in—I check the time on my phone—a little over an hour. Assuming they’re still not carding. She can totally pass for over twenty-one, but the only way I get into bars is by chance when there’s no bouncer. I’m meeting her there, in any case. Well, what’s the big deal? I didn’t tell her it would be just the two of us. I’ll just bring Tyler and Annie. We’ll hang out in a group. Weirder things have probably happened in New York.

“Pizza first,” I say.

“Definitely,” Tyler agrees. “Do you like pizza? Have you ever had it? Just you wait. It’s awesome.”

By the time we’re all squared away with slices and sitting around one of the aluminum tables near the back of the no-name pizzeria in the former drawing room of Annie’s house, Tyler’s started to calm down a little. Long enough to put the camera down on the table, anyway, and get some pizza into his mouth.

Annie keeps looking around herself with an expression that I can only describe as mild shock. I’ve bought her a slice of pepperoni. She’s probably never had pizza before. I wonder what she’ll think of it.

I wonder if she can eat.

Tyler’s wolfing his down and all three of his slices are gone in about two seconds.

“God,” he says, shaking his head. “I was starving. I must’ve burned through a week’s worth of adrenaline up there. You scared the pants off me, I’m not gonna lie. Jesus. I just about pissed myself.”

Annie smiles sweetly at him. “Did I? I’m sorry,” she says.

She takes my hand under the table, her thumb tucked against my palm in an oddly intimate way, and I feel the customary shiver that tells me she’s close by.

“No, no! It’s cool. I was just surprised, is all.” He grins at her. “It’s incredible. Wes, isn’t it incredible?”

“No question,” I say, catching Annie’s eye. “Incredible.”

“So? How does this work, anyway?” Tyler asks, firing up the camcorder again. If anyone else in the pizzeria notices that he seems to be filming an empty chair, they don’t let on. Kids, they’re probably thinking. Making an art film. Who knows why kids do what they do.

Annie blushes. “Um . . .” She glances at me, nervous. “I’m just starting to figure it out. But one thing I know for sure is, that woman you paid didn’t do anything.”

“She didn’t?” He’s surprised.

“No. I didn’t even know she was there ’til I got there. Is that her business or something?”

“Kind of,” I say.

“She pretends she can find . . .” Annie hesitates. “People like me?” A glimmer of sadness passes across her face.

“There’s no one like you,” I whisper to her.

Tyler makes a retching sound. When I glance up to glare at him, he grins at me.

“So? How’d you find us? Where were you? Were you there the whole time?” Tyler peppers her with questions, the red eye of the camcorder blinking with interest.

“Dude!” I exclaim.

But Annie’s laughing, and I love the sound of her laughter so I have to stop talking and watch her while she does it.

“I was kind of . . . Gosh. It’s hard to explain,” she says, frowning.