Chapter 1

“THE countdown is on, boy. Only three more days until your graduation.”

Evan looked up from his biology textbook to see his stepfather walking into the room with a cigar in one hand, a whiskey and coke in the other. The oak table creaked under his weight as he leaned against it and leered down at Evan.

Proud parents all around the country were uttering similar phrases. Graduation was an exciting time for most people, but for Evan and his stepfather, it signified something entirely different.

A year earlier Evan’s mother had died. She had never been a particularly good mother, especially in the later years, but she had loved him in her own way. Unfortunately, her love for Jack Daniel’s far outshone the love she had for her son, and it had ultimately taken her life. Her best drinking buddy, Phil, had become Evan’s stepfather five years before her death.

Graduation, for Phil, did not mean parties and university applications and family celebrations. It meant that Evan would finally have to move out. He had made it exceedingly clear that Evan was not welcome back home from the moment he accepted his diploma. Six days from now. It was not a devastating blow for Evan. The sagging house hadn’t felt like home for a very long time.

“Yeah, I know, Phil. I’ve already got my bags packed and my bus ticket ready. I’m leaving right from the ceremony, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Phil gestured, the amber liquid spilling over the side of his glass to splash on the grimy floor. “Not soon enough, you little faggot. I should have kicked you out the moment your mom was in the ground. You’re lucky I’m such an honorable man, keeping my promise to her to let you stay. You’re nothing but a thorn in my side and a drain on my bank account.”

Evan rose from the table and tamped down the anger bubbling up in his throat. It was barely nine in the morning and Phil was already drunk. It would do no good to argue with him. Evan couldn’t wait until he was on his own. In exchange for a place to live, Evan had had to give Phil most of what he made working after school at the copy shop.

Phil had been the most recent in a long line of bad boyfriends to stick. All were drunks. All were mean. Evan hated every one of them. Even before Phil had staggered gracelessly into his life, Evan had always known that Fairfax was not where he wanted to be. He could never be happy there. He had done everything in his power to ensure escape and was about to graduate with honors. It was the one thing Evan felt proud of.

His acceptance to all three of his top schools had come as bittersweet news. He had accepted the offer from the University of Oregon and was set to leave for Eugene right after grad. The scholarship would cover his tuition costs, but he still had to worry about textbooks and living expenses.

His only option was to find a summer job that paid well enough that he could get by once the fall semester started. He had saved enough money for bus fare to get him to Eugene, but once he got there he needed to find a place to stay and a job. With less than a week left before graduation, he was running out of time, and possibilities were limited.

He left his house and walked down the road until he spotted the converted farmhouse. It wasn’t much of a library, but it was quiet and Evan liked it there. He spent most of his free time tucked in between the stacks on the second floor. No one bothered him, and it was a reprieve from home, where the air was filled with the acrid smell of smoke and the sour stench of stale alcohol.

Evan had worked hard, always studied. His social life had suffered for it, but then, how popular could he be? He was a kid from the wrong family, and with the way he looked, he was destined to be picked on by his classmates. His body had given up on growing when he reached five foot seven inches. His small frame was corded with lean muscle but, lithe and slim, he had always wished he could be strong and muscular instead.

He had no coordination to speak of, and his dark hair was always just a bit too long and flopped into his eyes. He had a light smattering of freckles across his nose and high cheekbones. In a word, Evan was pretty. But pretty was not what he wanted to be.

Evan had always had a tough time making friends. When he was younger, play dates had cut into his mother’s drinking time, and he was always too shy and embarrassed to ask most of the kids at school to come over to his house to play. There was one other boy, Matt, whom Evan played with as often as he could. He lived on the other side of town, so they were only able to play together when Matt’s mom got home from work early or Evan’s mom was sober enough to drive them.

They had a lot in common. They both devoured the Hardy Boys novels while everyone else played video games or sports. Matt had never mentioned Evan’s home situation, but once had told him about his cousins who lived in Detroit and how his uncle often drank too much. Evan realized that was Matt’s way of letting him know he understood. Evan felt better knowing Matt was there for him, even if they never talked about it.

In the seventh grade, Matt’s family moved to Detroit after his uncle wrapped his car around a tree. Evan was devastated at the loss of his best friend, but as children often do, he truly believed Matt would be his best friend forever, that the distance was irrelevant. He was sure Matt would come back as soon as his parents had cleaned up the mess in Detroit.

Of course, it didn’t take long for Matt to make new friends in Detroit. He joined the soccer team and eventually had less and less time for the Hardy Boys and Evan. It was not the first abandonment Evan had suffered, and it certainly would not be the worst or the last.

In high school, the shyness remained and, paired with his small size, was grounds for popular kids all over school to tease and mock him. After a while he was able to block out the taunting, and eventually Evan was mostly okay with being on his own. Between work and school there was no time left for socializing anyway.

THE sound of his laptop booting up shook Evan from his thoughts.

He loaded up the few job sites he had been keeping an eye on, hoping that something new would pop up. Most of the ads were the same, but then something caught his attention. It was a small ad in the corner of the page.

Want to make easy money this summer? To work near the ocean? We’re looking for outgoing guys between the ages of 18 and 25 for adult modeling on a contract basis. Min. $1000/week. Forward photo with physical stats to [email protected]

Insecurity crashed into him, but the temptation of the money and the ocean called to him. One of the reasons Evan had studied so hard was his dream of becoming a marine ecologist. Ironically, he had never actually seen the ocean.

Evan rubbed his jaw as he thought. He didn’t suppose he was overly good looking, but what could it hurt to send in a photo? The worst they could say is no, and if he did get the job, he could likely get a couple more jobs on the side. How difficult could modeling really be anyway? Stand there while someone takes your picture? Evan could do that.

He quickly captured a photo with his webcam, attached it to an e-mail with his height and weight measurements and hit the send button before he could come to his senses and realize that no one would ever want to see him model anything.

He fired off a couple more copies of his résumé to some of the other new ads, but so far he wasn’t holding on to much hope of finding anything. Most places wanted college graduates for full-time work and his limited experience didn’t get him in many doors.

He closed his e-mail and opened up his biology textbook. He had been lugging the unwieldy book with him in his backpack all year. He couldn’t wait to be free of high school and everything that came with his hometown, but at the same time, the limited comfort he had cultivated here—the familiar places and routines—were difficult to let go of without a safety net to catch him if he fell.

A few hours later, Evan had rerouted the entire circulatory system and memorized the endocrine system backward and forward, so he decided to call it a night. He was packing up his books and papers as the e-mail alert sounded on his computer.

After opening up his e-mail program, he discovered he had received an e-mail from Sonic Street Studios.

Evan,

Thank you for your application. So far you’ve met our requirements but we’d like to meet you in person. If you could come by 3829 Essex Street Monday about 4:30 we could get to know you a little bit better and discuss the job. You’ll be meeting with me and one of our models, Noah Conroy. Wear something casual and comfortable and please bring ID.

Les Murray

Evan was dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten an interview for modeling. No one would have ever guessed that he, an awkward and gangly boy whose eyes were just a little too big and whose bottom lip was just a little too plump, would be offered a modeling job.

Evan was excited but didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. This could all turn out to be a huge waste of time. A firm believer that knowledge is power, Evan googled Sonic Street Studios. When the page loaded, he thanked God that his headphones were still plugged in. What splashed across the screen shocked his eyes open and made his jaw drop. The sounds of low moans filled his ears.

He quickly glanced around the room, praying that no one would notice his deep blush or the stunned expression plastered to his face. Satisfied that he was alone, he turned his attention back to the website.

The image of the most beautiful man Evan had ever seen took center screen. He leaned back in a chair, pose relaxed, a slight smile tugging at his pink lips. His tanned skin was flawless, probably a product of Photoshop, and stretched tight over well-defined muscles. Noah. That was the man Les had mentioned in his e-mail.

Evan felt like there were fireworks going off in his guts. His palms began to sweat as he scanned lower down on the page to more views of this man kissing another man. He scrolled down further to more photos of guys touching, licking, and kissing one another. The blood pumped harder in his veins.

The images changed every few seconds to reveal more smooth skin and solid abs. Checking again to make sure he was alone, Evan began clicking around the site. There wasn’t much information available to him without a membership, but there was no mistaking what kind of “modeling” Sonic Street did.

This was not the kind of modeling he had in mind. Evan reread the ad. Adult modeling. He should have picked up on that. Of course this was too good to be true.

Evan felt the disappointment swamp him as he let it sink in that this was not going to work. He couldn’t do porn. Even if he had the confidence to let someone film him having sex, he had no experience. Was there a step below virgin? If so, he was it. Eighteen years old and not so much as a first kiss.

Besides that, Sonic Street was located in Portland. He quickly googled the distance between Portland and Eugene. It would take less than two hours to drive between the two, and probably not much more by bus. He could always spend the summer in Portland and then…. No. It wasn’t even worth thinking about. The chances of getting anything beyond an interview were slim. Still, an escape plan was nice to think about.

He closed his laptop and shoved it into his backpack. The sun was beginning to set, and he thought he should probably get back to the house before it got too late. His calculus final was at nine o’clock the next morning, and he had his biology exam in the afternoon. He needed a few more hours to cram the handful of formulas into his head before he went to bed for a solid eight hours of sleep.

The air was a bit crisp for a June evening, but Evan relished the drop in temperature. He was still feeling flushed from his online discovery. He couldn’t stop the images he’d seen from flashing through his mind. The more he thought about it, the stronger the feeling of disappointment flowed through him.

How bad could it be, really? He figured porn stars probably made quite a bit of money for not a lot of work. There were a couple of photos of guys jacking off. Maybe he could do that? He did it all the time anyways, knew he was as least good at that. Might as well see if he could get paid for it.

Whether or not he could get it up in front of a camera was a different story, but it wouldn’t hurt to go to the interview and see what this Les guy had to say. The fact that Noah would be there too was interesting. Evan had felt a certain pull toward the man when he saw his photo. He was curious.

Having made up his mind, he felt jittery, but excited.

THE next few days passed by in a blur. Evan felt good about his finals. Relief mixed with apprehension as he finished packing the last of his things into a ratty blue duffle bag. There wasn’t much to pack. Evan had elected to leave behind most of his books, and other than books, he didn’t own much.

He had four hours to clear out his room and make it back to the high school for his graduation ceremony. It would be tight, but he could make it if he hurried. Not that anyone would miss him if he weren’t there.

When he finally walked across that stage, there would be no proud parents snapping photos and masking appreciative tears with wide smiles. There would be no congratulatory hug or champagne celebration once they returned home. No one would be waiting for him, but it didn’t matter. Those few steps signified more to him than simply the completion of high school. They also meant independence, freedom, and separation from his old life.

Evan was proud of his academic accomplishments and was looking forward to graduating with the people who had ignored or belittled him for the last four years of his life. He did not bear any ill will toward his classmates. Evan was smart enough to know that high school was just the crash course for university and didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

He dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of nice pants he had bought at Goodwill. They were a bit too big, but would be fine under his graduation gown. His tie was knotted securely at the base of his throat, tied via instructions on YouTube. Evan had never had cause to wear a tie before, nor a father to teach him how to tie one.

After grabbing his wallet and shoving it into the back pocket of his pants, he ran out the door to catch his bus to the school.

THE ceremony was long, the sun beating down on the neat rows of excited graduates as they waited to cross the stage and shake the hand of a man they barely knew. It was a rite of passage every teenager looked forward to. Evan was no different. It seemed an eternity before his name was called. As he stood there posing for photos that would never be ordered, he tried to remember the last time anyone had taken a photograph of him.

Sadly, the only memory that came to mind was his eighth birthday. It was a rare time when his mom had been between boyfriends and miraculously sober enough to notice the date. Evan had felt like it was the universe’s birthday gift to him. It was one of the best days he could remember and one of the last times he had felt truly happy.

Evan crossed to the opposite side of the stage and down the uneven stairs of the riser. He waited for a new feeling to settle within him. The feeling never came. He wasn’t sure why he thought he would feel different. Things in his life were changing, but he was still the same person he had always been. A bit let down, he walked back to his chair to sit patiently.

After the ceremony, Evan made his escape as quickly as he could. Although he had resigned himself to not caring about the happy families and proud parents, it still stung a little that no one was there for him.

He picked up the bag he had stashed by his locker and made his way down three blocks to the Greyhound station.

Evan climbed the steep steps onto the bus and looked around for an empty spot. He walked back and slid into the worn fabric seat, colored with unidentifiable stains, and settled in for the long ride to his new home.

The Sonic Street ad had gotten him thinking about Portland. It wasn’t far from Eugene, and he would likely have more luck with the job hunt in a larger city. He’d searched online and found a motel close to downtown that he thought he could afford if he were careful, at least until he found a job and could move somewhere else until school began.

Evan took a deep breath in and let it out slowly as the bus, shuddering and shaking, reversed and then pulled out onto the street. He said his good-byes to the places where he had spent the majority of his time for the past eighteen years: his school, the library, the park, and the copy shop. He didn’t need to say good-bye to his house. It hadn’t been home for a long time.

Evan stared out the window, watching as the tires ate up the pavement, the bus rolling quickly to the edge of town. Evan said good-bye to his old life. He took a moment to mourn the loss of the little things that had brought him happiness, but he could never return to that place. He didn’t belong there any longer.

He bit down on his lip, tasting blood, trying desperately to keep his emotions under control. He felt overwhelmed that it was actually over. He was moving on, starting a brand new life in a brand new place. He could be anything he wanted to be.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass and watched the blur of foliage at the side of the road as they sped down the highway. Evan closed his eyes and tried to relax. It would be a long trip. He might as well try to get some sleep along the way.

AFTER a twelve-hour trip that had turned into fourteen due to road construction, Evan finally checked into the Mountainside Motel. The room was small and smelled like unwashed feet. The walls were yellowed from years of smoke and God only knew what else. The air conditioning unit was stuck in the on position, so the room was a balmy fifty-five degrees.

Despite the cold temperature, Evan immediately removed the coverlet from the top of the bed and with careful fingers deposited it in the corner of the room. He assumed the sheets weren’t the image of sterility, but the coverlet would be festering with all kinds of unknown nastiness.

His interview was the next afternoon. Hopefully he could relax a little more now that he’d escaped the oppressive town and his stagnated life. The hotel was cheap, but it would be his home for now. He forced down the lonely, desolate feeling that crept up around him like English ivy, pulling at him, strangling him. It would do no good to feel sorry for himself.