The Appearance of Annie van Sinderen by Katherine Howe Page B

aren’t that many film students, only about thirty of us in total, about evenly split between girls and guys. Three workshop professors, each of them looking like she’d rather be doing anything else on a Friday night.
    Only Tyler looks like he’s on the brink of a total meltdown.
    â€œStop that,” I hiss to Tyler.
    â€œWhat?” he looks at me, irritated.
    â€œYour knee. It’s jingling your keys.”
    Tyler looks around, confused. “Huh?” Then he seems to hear the jingling for the first time, and puts both his hands on top of his knee. The jingling stops.
    â€œThanks,” I say.
    â€œSorry,” he says. As soon as we stop talking, the other knee starts jingling.
    I groan and stare up at the ceiling.
    More acoustical tile. I could count the divots, but I won’t.
    â€œAll right then,” Professor Krauss says. She’s gotten up behind the lectern and is shuffling through some notes. “We’re just about ready. Cleo? Are you ready on the lights?”
    Tyler’s head whips around, hunting through the crowd. It’s pretty much just our classmates in the screening room, though there are a few parents, and some kids from other classes. One group of girls has brought poster boards that read DEEPTI ROCKS .
    â€œDammit,” Tyler mutters. “They can’t start yet. We’ve still got five minutes.”
    I check my watch, but Tyler’s wrong—we’re actually five minutes past.
    â€œWho are you waiting for?” I ask.
    â€œNobody.” Tyler frowns into his lap.
    â€œIs the gallery supposed to be sending someone or something?” I ask, looking over my shoulder, too.
    â€œNo. Forget it.”
    I eye him, but the lights in the screening room start to dim, and whatever Tyler’s thinking disappears in the gathering dark.
    â€œAll right,” says Professor Krauss. “Let’s get started. First up tonight is Deepti Chatterjee, with a narrative piece she’s calling
Girl in the Park
. It’s seven minutes, shot on digital video, and stars . . . I can’t read this. One of the drama kids. Ready?”
    The cheering section whoops, and one of the voices calls out, “Starring Laura Gutierrez!”
    â€œJesus,” Tyler mutters under his breath next to me. “Grow up.”
    The screen flickers to life, and then we get seven minutes of the back of a girl’s head as she circumnavigates Washington Square Park to the dubbed-in tune of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” by Nancy Sinatra. While the girl walks, she slowly removes one item of clothing at a time, dropping it carelessly behind her, until she’s (apparently) totally nude. Except the camera never leaves the back of her head, so I’m reasonably certain that Laura Gutierrez was not actually nude in Washington Square Park. She’s probably in swimsuit bottoms and pasties. Okay, I have to hand it to her for the pasties part. You wouldn’t catch me going semi-naked in Washington Square Park, if I were a girl. Actually, you probably wouldn’t catch me going semi-naked in Washington Square Park if I were myself.
    Heads start turning as she passes strangers going about their everyday lives. Nannies with strollers. Office girls on lunch break.Some dudes playing drums. Hare Krishnas. Once we start to get down to serious skin, the music changes to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs singing “Heads Will Roll,” and a few people have started following Laura like supplicants. I can’t tell if they’re part of the film project, or just randos. If they’re randos, that would have been pretty freaky. When the girl loses the last item of clothing, a pair of thong underpants, she comes to a halt directly under the Washington Square arch, then turns to the camera and winks over her shoulder at the very second the music stops.
    The credits roll over a rehash of “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’,” while