Calling Maggie May

by AnonYMous

  He asked me about myself, and I told him all about swimming and how I used to love it but how it had gotten complicated recently, tied up with competition, so it just wasn’t fun anymore. I almost slipped up and told him about how I tried to make a pass at a boy on the swim team, but I stopped myself. It occurred to me that that maybe wasn’t appropriate first-date conversation.

  Anyway, we talked and talked, and he was just really nice. So much nicer than Tyler. Ada was right about that. And I couldn’t believe it, but he seemed really interested in me. No one has ever been that interested in me other than my mom. Mom always has to know every single little detail of my day, and I think she would dig into my brain to know every thought I have too, if she could. But she has her own reasons for that. It’s more about control than caring.

  So we were walking and talking about being tourists in our hometown, and I happened to mention that I’d never even been to the Space Needle. There was a class trip there when I was in first grade, but Mom kept me home that day because she didn’t see the point in me wasting time on something “nonacademic.” I’d always regretted it. I mean, it seems like a silly thing, but every time I see it, it’s just another reminder of how I’m never allowed to do anything for fun.

  And then Damon was like, “Let’s go.” I was like, what, to the Space Needle? He said yeah; he was getting hungry, and they have a restaurant up there. So he took me to dinner in the Space Needle! How cool is that? Wait, no, it gets better. Did you know that the restaurant spins around? So you can see views of the whole city while you eat dinner. Basically, it was the most perfect, most romantic thing ever.

  We walked around some more after dinner, and the moon was so pretty and the weather was just perfect, and we sat on a bench and just talked and talked. Or rather, I talked and talked. Damon was mostly listening. I started to feel really awkward about the fact that I was talking so much, so I shut up. I wanted to give him a chance to talk, but he didn’t. So I looked at him and he was looking at me and . . . This is a terrible analogy, but it was like a car crash, or how people talk about them, anyway. How time slows down and you see your life flash before your eyes. Because I just had this moment of, Oh my God, he’s going to kiss me, and then he did!

  It was sweet. Honestly, the only time I’ve kissed anyone before was in seventh grade at a birthday party, and it was awful, really awful. Really wet, and the boy was basically choking me with his tongue. I remember thinking at the time, I don’t ever want to do that again. But this wasn’t like that at all. He was really gentle and slow, and he just held me there like that until all I could think was that I wanted more. So I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

  After a while I felt his hand on my knee. It shocked me. Literally. It felt like a shock of electricity, and I pulled away from him. He immediately pulled back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he looked really guilty. “I shouldn’t have done that. I can take you home now.”

  But I realized that wasn’t what I wanted at all. I didn’t want to leave and go back to my boring, awful, normal life. More than anything, I wanted to keep kissing Damon.

  So I said, “Don’t stop.” And I moved closer to him again and pulled him in for another kiss. We kissed for what felt like ages, and it was fantastic, but after a while this feeling came over me and I wanted more again. So I reached out and took his hand, which was nice but not quite what I wanted. So I put it back on my knee. Except not really on my knee . . . farther up. And we kept kissing, and I noticed his hand creeping higher and higher until my breath caught in my throat. He pulled back then and looked me in the eyes and said, “Is this okay?” I nodded. And he said, “Are you sure?”

  I meant to say yes, but instead what came out was, “Please don’t stop.” That was really embarrassing and I blushed hard, but he just smiled.

  “We’re starting to put on quite a show for all the people walking by,” he said. I think I must have turned super red at that. I started to pull away, but he said, “How about coming back to my hotel room?”

  I hesitated a second, and he started babbling, apologizing and saying he shouldn’t have said it. But the truth was, it was exactly what I wanted. And I told him so.

  So we went back to his room at the hotel, and I couldn’t believe how nice it was. I’ve stayed in only a couple roadside motels in my whole life, and they were nothing like this. There was an iPod docking station, a huge flat-screen TV, and a bowl of pretty little candies. I grabbed the bowl of candies and took it with me as I checked everything out. The best part was the bathroom—there were heated towel racks, a huuuuge tub, and another flat-screen TV so you could watch from the tub! I turned it on, and they were having a SpongeBob marathon and I got so excited. I haven’t seen that show in ages. Plus, can you imagine watching SpongeBob while taking a bath? The whole concept made me giggle.

  I called out to Damon to come see, like a big dork—as if he doesn’t know his own hotel room. And he found me lying fully clothed in the bathtub, watching SpongeBob with a bowl of candies balanced on my stomach. I must have looked like an idiot, but he just stood in the doorway, grinning at me. So I was like, “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I had kind of thought you might like to see the view from the window. Maybe have a glass of champagne.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I was embarrassed that I’d been so rude when he was being so nice. “I’ll come and see.”

  Damon shook his head. “I guess we got enough views from Space Needle.”

  “I don’t really like champagne,” I admitted. “Do you want some candy?” I lifted the bowl toward him, and he crouched down to take some.

  “You’re cute,” he said.

  I laughed. “No, you’re cute.”

  “Is that right?”

  And I couldn’t believe he didn’t know how cute he was. I wanted to show him, wanted to prove it to him. So I grabbed on to his shirt and tugged him closer to me and kissed him. He tasted like candy—there were still little bits of it in both our mouths, like little pockets of hard sweetness mixed into the soft kiss. It was awkward and uncomfortable and delicious and amazing. Eventually, he pulled back and asked if I thought the tub was big enough for two. Which it definitely was. I mean, it was huge, so I tugged on him a bit harder until he got into the tub with me. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, lying in a dry tub with all our clothes on, but kissing him felt so good it didn’t matter. Except then I guess his elbow or something knocked into the tap and turned it on, and suddenly we were both getting drenched with freezing-cold water!

  I screamed at first, and then when I realized what happened, I couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Maybe that was a sign,” said Damon.

  “Did you want to stop?”

  “Do you?”

  I told him no, and he grinned and said, “Me neither. But maybe we need a change of venue.”

  He got out of the tub and put out a hand to help me up.

  “And clothes,” I said. Ada’s sopping-wet dress wasn’t the most comfortable anymore. Damon reached behind me and tugged the zipper down, then slipped the dress off me until I was standing there in my underwear. He wrapped his arms around me.

  “That better?”

  And that’s when it really hit me—we were going to have sex. I guess it seems pretty idiotic that I didn’t realize that earlier. In some sense, I guess I knew when he invited me back to his hotel room. But I didn’t really believe it. It just seemed so unlikely that this guy really wanted me. I kept waiting for him to realize what a boring loser I am and tell me to leave. But when he took my dress off, that’s when I realized—he was not going to change his mind.

  Suddenly I felt nervous and awkward. Kissing was great, but sex was scarier. I started worrying that it would hurt, that Damon would expect me to know what to do, or that he would notice all the blobby bits on my body and get grossed out. But Damon p
ut me at ease. He was undoing the buttons on his shirt, and he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

  “Are you scared?”

  I held my breath and nodded a little. I could feel his breath on my neck and his lips on my earlobe.

  “Do you want to stop?”

  And even though I was nervous, I didn’t want him to stop. I was still just so shocked that it was happening at all. I mean, I had more or less given up on this whole idea, on anyone ever wanting me—especially someone I actually wanted back. At school no one ever looked at me that way, and I got used to the idea that I was invisible to the world except as a geek and a nerd. But here I was, in a situation I always thought was reserved for other girls—prettier girls, cooler and more confident girls. At best, maybe one day I’d talk another virginal geek into it, or someone gross and desperate, someone selfish. But Damon was none of those things.

  Of course I knew it wasn’t love—I’m not naive. I don’t expect him to marry me or send me love letters or whatever. But what we were doing . . . It felt good. Just kissing him felt better than I had thought it possibly could, and I would have been happy to keep kissing him all night. But if he’s so good at kissing, it made sense that he’d be good at other stuff too.

  So I kissed him again by way of answer, and I let him pull me over to the bed. He was really slow and careful and it did hurt at first, but it also felt really good. Afterward I felt sore in places I hadn’t even realized existed, but he held me and stroked my hair until I fell asleep.

  I guess it sounds super slutty, since I’d only just met him. But it felt right, and you know what? I don’t regret it at all.

  Damon was gone when I woke up, which at first made me a little sad, but honestly, it was kind of a relief too. Last night was so amazing, and I needed some time to process it all this morning. I feel like if he were around, odds are I would do something stupid or embarrassing or awkward that would sour the whole experience. And I don’t want that. I want to cherish this night forever, no matter what else happens.

  He did leave a really sweet note saying that he was glad he got to meet me and apologizing that he had to catch a really early plane this morning. And he told me to go ahead and have breakfast sent up to the room, on his tab! The other hotels I’ve stayed in were definitely the “coffee and doughnuts in the lobby” kind of places, but the room-service menu here has all kinds of amazing things. Would it be bad to order one of everything?

  Oh! I have to call Ada and tell her all about it. I can’t forget I really owe all of this to her.

  Sat, Nov 15, later

  Ada’s not very happy with me.

  I don’t totally understand it, and she says it’s not my fault, but apparently it’s a huge deal that I had sex with Damon. I was so excited to tell her all about it! And I was pretty sure she wouldn’t judge me. But I guess I misread the situation.

  I sent her a quick text about it, and she immediately texted back asking for the hotel room. And said she was on her way over. I thought she just wanted to hear all about it, but when she got here, she was in a terrible mood.

  She kept saying it was supposed to be just a date, a regular, normal date. She told him no sex, which I thought was really confusing. I mean, how is it her job to decide if I have sex or not? I thought only my mom was that controlling. Then she asked me if I was a virgin. I mean, if I had been. I was like, well, obviously. At that she groaned and put her head in her hands.

  “I am so fucked,” she said. I had no idea what she was talking about. “I told him you were probably a virgin and he was not to have sex with you,” she went on. “I’m such an idiot. I should never have told him that. It’s like telling a kid that there’s candy hidden in the closet that he’s not allowed to eat. God, that bastard. He’s going to get me into so much trouble.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said, still totally clueless. “What trouble?”

  “Damon knows better than to scam a freebie off Irma’s girls,” she went on, but she didn’t seem to be talking to me. “And now Irma is going to think I made off with the cash.”

  “Cash?” I said. “What cash?”

  “That’s just it. There wasn’t any! It was supposed to be a favor. I asked if he’d take a friend on a date, show her a nice time. As a friend.”

  Suddenly some things clicked into place.

  “Wait. You mean Damon only took me out because you made him? He didn’t even want to?” My chest felt hollow, but Ada just laughed.

  “Believe me,” she said. “He got what he wanted. It wasn’t just a favor to me. It was . . . mutual. Damon likes girls the wrong side of legal, but he doesn’t like to feel like a sleaze. His thing is to be Prince Charming, do a whole fancy date. And his fantasy is to deflower a virgin. So I told him I had a virgin for him, just like he wanted—for free. The only catch was, he couldn’t sleep with you. No money changing hands—just a fun evening for everyone involved. All I wanted was to give your self-confidence a little boost, show you that you can do better than assholes like Tyler Adams.”

  I was trying to follow her explanation, but one detail kept tripping me up.

  “Why do you keep talking about money?” I asked. “And who is Irma?”

  Ada looked up at me with a guilty expression. “Irma is my boss.” She took a deep breath and seemed to brace herself. “I turn tricks for a living,” she said. “Damon is one of my old clients.”

  For a long time, I couldn’t speak.

  “Turn tricks,” I said at last. “You mean you’re a . . . a prostitute?”

  I had to sit down on the bed. On the one hand, I felt like I’d never been so shocked in my life. But on the other, I felt like an idiot that I hadn’t figured it out earlier. So many things about Ada suddenly made sense now. How she always seemed to have so much money even though her family didn’t. Why she was on her phone constantly, even though she didn’t have any friends. Why she looked so sophisticated and adult even though she was still in high school. Why she left school so often during the day. And why she knew guys like Damon she could fix me up on dates with.

  Damon! I had a sudden fear that last night meant something very different from what I had thought.

  “Did I just have sex with Damon for money?”

  “No,” said Ada. “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain. I’ve known Damon for a long time now. I’d even call him a friend. I just wanted him to make you feel better about yourself, and I can’t believe he dicked me over like this.”

  “Oh,” I said, and suddenly felt washed in a wave of guilt. “That wasn’t totally his fault.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was . . . It was my idea, kind of. I mean, I may have sort of . . . pressured him.”

  Again, I thought back to last night, and so many things seemed clearer. Why Damon had been such an incredible listener. Why he showed me such a good time. And why he seemed so hesitant to take the next obvious step. “He kept trying to back off, but I . . . I was the one who wanted more.”

  Ada looked at me like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “You poor thing,” she said. “You really feel responsible. Look, honey, you’re sixteen. He’s twenty-seven. You’re a virgin, and he is . . . Well, he’s about as far from that as they come. Believe me, you didn’t force him into anything.” Suddenly a new look of horror came over her face. “Wait,” she said. “You made him wear a condom, didn’t you? Oh God. Please say you did. I will fucking murder him if he—”

  I reassured her that he did wear one, though again I felt a little guilty that it hadn’t been my idea. It hadn’t even occurred to me until he brought it out. What had I thought would happen? I really felt like an idiot that I hadn’t even given a thought to pregnancy or disease. I was just so caught up in the moment.

  Anyway, that calmed Ada down a little. She took my hands and asked me really seriously if I was okay and how I was
feeling. I said I was fine, just a little confused.

  “Do you need anything?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did you . . . ? Well, did you have any fun, after all?”

  I couldn’t help smiling at that. “Ada, it was the best night of my life,” I said honestly. That made Ada smile back.

  “Good,” she said. “Don’t worry, then. It will be fine. We’ll just have to hope Irma never finds out about this little mix-up.”

  Tues, Nov 18

  I just read over that last entry, and it feels like a dream I had. It’s hard to believe that’s something that really happened to me. I mean, in some ways it’s hard to believe it happens at all. High school girls working as prostitutes? But it is really hard to imagine that I came in any way in contact with that world.

  Not that I’m a prostitute! I never asked for nor accepted any money. Or was even offered any, for that matter. So really I’m just a sixteen-year-old girl who had sex with an older man. Which isn’t that unusual. That’s probably pretty normal, actually. It definitely isn’t illegal. Oh wait. Yes, it is. I guess technically that’s rape. Wow. How ridiculous that anyone would think what happened between me and Damon could possibly be called rape. I knew what I was doing! I’m not that innocent. Although I guess he did know a lot more about the situation than I did.

  But whatever. It was great! I had a lot of fun, and I didn’t do anything illegal, in any case.

  But all that’s over now, and it’s back to regular life for me. It was kind of weird and twisted that Ada set the whole thing up for me, but also kind of . . . sweet in a way. I guess she really did see something in me that I didn’t, and so did Damon. And the weirdest thing is, it worked! I still see Tyler all the time at swim practice, but I’m not obsessed with him like I used to be. My world’s a little bigger now, and I can see he isn’t the only good-looking guy in it (though he is still really good-looking—nothing’s going to change that). But compared to Damon? He is a twerp and a loser.