Calling Maggie May by Anonymous Page A

earlier today, Mom is currently not speaking to me, which is a relief. I bet that won’t last, though.
    But the shopping trip! It was . . . well, it was definitely fun. But it was also, I don’t know . . . I guess I couldn’t help being a little disappointed. For so long, my fantasy was that I could become a little more like Ada. She is so beautiful and glamorous and sophisticated, and I’ve always been so bad at any of that stuff. Just dumpy and geeky and nothing anyone should have any reason to notice. A big part of why I got into this whole lifestyle in the first place was so I could be more like her: gorgeous and mysterious and set apart from all the other girls at school.
    I wanted to make money so I could buy clothes and makeup like hers and not have to rely on her hand-me-downs. That was what the money was for. I didn’t really have anything else I wanted or needed. But now . . .
    After what Irma told me the other day, that’s not really an option, is it? She was pretty clear about what the clients would expect from a girl like me. I’m supposed to look cute and young, like a schoolgirl, because that’s their fantasy. Well, that’s not my fantasy! But since when has anything I wanted ever mattered?
    But I suppose if what I wanted was to be noticed, this new look will at least help me accomplish that.
    I met up with Ada, and we stopped for coffee first while I told her about what had happened with Miss Irma and I explained to her all about the “look” I was supposed to have now.Ada nodded and seemed to understand. She talked about it in another way, too. She said that when you think of it as playing a character, sometimes it was easier to get through a date. A bad client couldn’t touch you or hurt you the same way if the person on the date wasn’t really you. I guess that makes sense. I just wish I got to play a cooler character.
    Ada did make me feel better about it. She thought the schoolgirl outfits were cute, and she wished she could get away with them. I don’t really believe her, but it was nice of her to say. And she did take me to some stores where I could get stuff that looked better than I was expecting. I’ve seen the schoolgirls in Taiwan, and believe me, they don’t look like anyone’s fantasy. The school uniforms are almost as dowdy as my regular school clothes: plaid skirts down to the knee and shapeless white blouses that make everyone look puffy. And knee socks that are always slipping down. The stuff Ada picked out for me was like that, but the sexy version, I guess. The skirt was much shorter, the socks went up higher, and the shirt was a lot more formfitting. I came out of the dressing room feeling a bit shy, and Ada said I looked really cute.
    I bought a few outfits along those lines, plus some decent makeup; then we went back to her place to play dress up. I stayed a couple of hours until it started to get dark, and then I got a little nervous about my parents waiting for me at home. I could call them, of course, but I wasn’t quite ready to face that conversationyet. Instead, I asked Ada a question I’d wondered about before.
    â€œWhy aren’t your parents ever home?” I asked her. “Do they work a lot?”
    Ada barked out a laugh. “Work? I’m the only person in this household who works.”
    I didn’t know how to respond to that. I just stared at her.
    â€œSo they just . . . ,” I began.
    â€œThere’s no ‘they,’” she said. “I don’t have a father.”
    â€œOh,” I said. “Did he die?”
    â€œBeats me,” she answered in a hard voice. “Maybe. I don’t have the slightest idea who he is, and neither does anyone else, as far as I know.”
    â€œWhat about your mom?”
    â€œShe’s here. Around. She always is.”
    â€œWhy haven’t I ever seen her?”
    Ada shrugged.