didnât trust Miss Irmaâs choice of partners, so she asked if she could just do it with me, and Irma said fine.
I guess itâs probably not a normal reaction, but I felt weirdly flattered at that. Still, I was kind of nervous. Iâve heard of this kind of thing before, mostly in locker-room jokes at swim meets, but I wasnât exactly sure what the client would be expecting.
âWhat will I need to do?â I asked her.
âItâs nothing, really,â Ada said. âHe probably just wants to see us kiss and make out a bit, and then heâll want to get off. Iâll take care of that part, and youâll still get half the money. And it will be at my rate, not yours, so a lot more than you got last time.â She bit her lip as she looked at me. âI appreciate this so much. But you know you donât have to do it, right? If youâre not comfortable.â
I put a hand on hers and smiled. âItâs okay. I donât mind.â
And I didnât. I had been so filled with dread over even just the idea of a phone call, and I was so sure I never wanted to do anything for Miss Irma again, but this was different. Maybe I should have been more freaked out at the idea, but it didnâtseem gross or weird as long as it was with Ada. It seemed like fun, almost. Like we were playing a wicked little game. Which I guess we were.
I almost abandoned ship before we even began, though. Just as we got to the door, I felt a weird little rush as the memories of my last time came back to me. I had a vision of that same man coming to the door, or someone like him. I imagined how cold and impersonal it would all be, and my stomach turned and I had a sudden urge to run away, dash toward the fire exit, and run down sixteen flights of stairs just so I could breathe. But right then Ada touched my arm and smiled and I felt better.
She asked me what name I was using, and I realized I still hadnât come up with one. I got nervous that I would completely blank out, like the last two times it came up, so I just said the first name that popped into my head: Justine. Itâs my French teacherâs name, and I donât even know why I said it, but Ada said she liked it, so I guess itâs okay.
When the guy opened the door, Ada introduced me as Justine and herself as Brigid. The guy said his name was Marco, but who knows? That might be fake too. He was in his twenties, Iâm pretty sure, and he said he worked for a record company. He asked if either of us knew how to sing, and I was worried for a second that he wanted us to sing for him, but he just laughed at the stricken look on my face and took a seat in a little sittingarea near the window. Ada and I stayed standing. I wasnât sure what he was expecting. Should we sit on the bed? Take our clothes off? Start kissing? I figured I would follow whatever Adaâs lead was, but she was as frozen as I was. She was smiling though. I tried to smile too, but it felt awkward and fake.
Marco grinned back and gestured at the love seat across from him as he pulled a little packet of papers and a bag of something out of his pocket and started rolling a joint. âYou guys smoke?â he said.
âNo,â I answered automatically, but Ada shot a look at me.
âAre you sure?â said Marco. âIt helps you relax.â
âGo ahead,â said Ada. âYou should try it.â
I looked back at her, trying to figure out what was going on in her head.
âBut you said . . . ,â I began, remembering our conversation in the car over.
Ada giggled. âThatâs different,â she said. âI was talking about hard drugs. This is legal.â
Marco had finished his joint and lit it, inhaling deeply, then taking a long time to exhale the thick smoke. He handed the joint to Ada, and she held it expertly in her fingers, taking a small, delicate drag. She handed it to me.
âDonât inhale too