Calling Maggie May by Anonymous Page B

much, or you’ll cough,” she said. I started to bring it to my lips, but I hesitated at the last second.
    â€œI don’t know if—,” I began, but Marco interrupted.
    â€œGo on,” he said. “Try it. You’ll like it.”
    Ada gave me an encouraging nod, so I brought the joint to my lips once again and pulled. The heavy smoke filled my mouth and throat immediately. I struggled so hard not to cough that my eyes watered. I did let out a little cough/hiccup, but at least I didn’t have a huge coughing fit. At first I was mostly aware of the smell and the taste of it, and the harsh burning feeling in my throat, but then I noticed that my head felt a little foggy. But I’m not even sure if that was the pot or just the weirdness of the situation. Honestly, I don’t think I inhaled enough to really feel anything.
    After a while Marco started fidgeting impatiently, and Ada took the cue to nudge me into a kiss. My mouth was so dry and hot, the wetness of her mouth felt like a relief, and I leaned into it. I had to admit, this was much nicer than anything that happened with that old man. Maybe even nicer than what I did with Damon. I realized right then that I still had never hooked up with anyone I actually knew for more than a few hours. So maybe it’s not so surprising that it felt really comfortable and relaxed, like a natural extension of our friendship, instead of this awkward, artificial business arrangement. But that might also just have been the pot.
    It wasn’t quite how Ada had said it would be. Mostly Marco just watched, but sometimes he came over and put his handson us, and sometimes he moved us this way or that to position us the way he wanted, as if he were a movie director. And he whispered directions and encouragement too, which was a little strange but not so bad. In a way, I started to see what Ada had been talking about the other day: that it could be fun to know you were giving pleasure to someone, fulfilling their fantasy. It made me feel sort of powerful.
    Eventually he moved us to the bed and helped us take off each other’s clothes, and then he mostly watched from then on. When he was ready to finish up, Ada took care of him while I just watched. A few times he reached for me, but I just giggled and kissed him a little, and each time Ada did something to distract him.
    Ada’s really talented. Watching her work was educational, in a way. It made me want to get better, so I could be skilled like her.
    By the time they finished, my head was feeling a lot less fuzzy, but I was suddenly starving. Ada giggled when my stomach grumbled as we got dressed. We didn’t really say anything until we got down to the lobby. Even though the whole experience had been sort of fun, it felt a little awkward afterward. But just as we were about to go through the big revolving doors, Ada stopped me with a hand on my elbow. I turned to look at her.
    â€œHoney,” she said, “are you . . . ? Are you all right? With everything, I mean . . .”
    I nodded, and the smile that came to my face was completely unforced. “Yeah,” I said. “It was okay. I mean . . . It was kind of fun, actually.”
    Ada smiled back. “Good,” she said. “Hey, he slipped me a tip while you were getting dressed. You want to go get something to eat?”
    * * *
    We wound up at a diner Ada knew, and we both got burgers and fries and milk shakes, and it felt like an indulgence. Ada explained about how the guys tip sometimes, but I should never tell Miss Irma about it, or she’ll insist on taking a cut. So that’s good to know.
    At one point I glanced at my watch and realized I was supposed to be in history class right then, and I couldn’t help giggling. I also couldn’t stop talking about how great the burgers were, and Ada laughed at me. I was like, “What?” And she said, “Nothing. It’s just