Keeping Sweets

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SW
Ste 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Keeping Sweets

Copyright © 2013 by Cate Ashwood

Cover Art by Brooke Albrecht

http://brookealbrechtstudio.blogspot.com/

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Ste 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA.

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

ISBN: 978-1-62380-406-0

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62380-407-7

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

March 2013

To my parents, who may not have always understood the things I do, but who have never wavered in their support. I love you.

I would also like to thank all the other authors who came before me who inspired me to find my voice, and to B. and Xto, who listened to that voice chatter endlessly about this book from the beginning.

“T
HE
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.

T
HE
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.