Calling Maggie May Read Free Page A

it’s still fresh in my head. I’m afraid if I go to sleep I’ll wake up convinced it was all a dream. Even now I’m not so sure.
    It was lunchtime. I was in line to collect my uninspiring rations of institutional-grade chicken fingers, stressing about this huge history test I bombed that morning, when I noticed Tyler moving across the lunchroom. I let my eyes follow him because even though it’s painful to look at Tyler and see howgorgeous he is and think about how hopeless it is to be in love with him, I prefer that kind of pain to thinking about what’s going to happen when Mom sees my end-of-semester grades and realizes her dreams for me are dead.
    So instead of dwelling on that, I watched Tyler. And as I watched, I noticed that he was heading toward the door out to the playing fields, and obviously if he went through that, I would lose sight of him. I don’t know what came over me exactly, except that I really didn’t want to go back to thinking about that history test or those chicken fingers. So I started moving. I stepped out of the line and I followed him.
    It was drizzling a little outside, so there weren’t many people around. I scanned the low wall and the steps where students usually gather at lunchtime, but I didn’t see Tyler or anyone else. Then I turned and saw Tyler ducking down into a little passageway between the main school building and the auditorium.
    I hurried toward where I’d seen him last, still with no fixed idea what I was doing or what I’d do if he spotted me. It’s like I was on autopilot. That’s when I heard the click-clack of heels on a small flight of concrete stairs, along with the soft thud of Tyler’s sneakers. He’d been looking for Ada, of course. And now he’d found her.
    From where I was, I could lean over a railing and see them bothat the bottom of the stairs. Ada was wearing a short red trench coat that matched her nails. She slipped out of the rain under a little overhang and pulled out a cigarette and a book of matches.
    â€œDammit,” she said in a low voice as one match after another went out. The wind had picked up. She was facing away from Tyler, and at first I thought she might not know that he was there, but then she said, “I don’t suppose you have a lighter.”
    â€œI don’t smoke,” said Tyler.
    â€œOf course you don’t,” said Ada, still not looking at him. Her straight blond hair fell like a curtain between them.
    They stood together in silence a moment while Ada tried and failed to get another match to light. Tyler took a step forward. “I can help,” he said. He leaned his body close to hers, rounding his shoulders to block the wind and blocking my view of her. After a moment, I heard her say thank you, and a plume of smoke rose to where I was standing. He didn’t move.
    â€œI said ‘thank you,’” Ada repeated, more sharply this time.
    â€œDon’t be stuck-up,” said Tyler. “I know what you are.”
    â€œIs that a fact?”
    â€œI’ll tell everyone.”
    â€œBe my guest,” said Ada, not looking at him. Her phone trilled with a text message. “I’ve got to take this,” she said.
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œThat was code for, ‘Run along, now.’”
    â€œGo ahead,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
    The phone trilled again. “Fine,” said Ada, and she moved out from behind him, back into the rain. She started to walk up the stairs, but he reached behind him and grabbed her arm, tugging her back down to his level. “Ow,” she said. “What’s the . . . ?” But she didn’t say anything else because he was kissing her.
    â€œHey,” I cried out. Not stopping to think, I took the steps two at a time. “What are you doing? She said no.”
    Tyler stepped away from her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
    â€œNo, she