Keeping Sweets (6 page)

“Think we should pick a backup boy in case Evan doesn’t go through with it?” Bran asked, already second-guessing the decisions he’d made. He didn’t know why he felt so invested in this already. It was just another porno, with a set of random guys who didn’t mean anything to him at all. If it failed, it failed.

The corner of Les’s mouth crooked up in a knowing smile. “I think it’ll be fine, sugar. I think the kid might surprise you.”

“Alright, guess I should get to work calling the guys in. I’ll arrange for us all to meet up at the house. We’ll take the first day or so to let the guys get to know one another a little before the hard-core stuff happens. Might get some good footage for in between scenes too.”

“Good call. Are you going to take your truck down? I’ll follow behind with the supplies if you want.” Les grabbed his cell from the table and retreated to his office to make arrangements. In the meantime, Bran started making calls to let the boys know they were in.

He wanted to call Evan first. It was silly, but he felt eager to talk to the kid again. He pulled Evan’s file from the bottom of the pile and opened it. Evan looked up at him from the picture Les had taken during his interview. His eyes were so big and dark brown. Eyes you could easily lose yourself in. They were wide, trusting, and a little sad, like he had spent his whole life in disappointment.

Bran didn’t know if this would add to it or not. Was getting into porn going to be exciting for this kid, or would it only make things worse? Bran knew about being lonely and disappointed with life. He hoped Evan knew what he was getting himself into. He couldn’t make choices for the kid though; he could only do what he had to and trust that Evan would choose the right path for himself.

He lifted the paper-clipped photo and traced his finger down the page to the contact information. It was blank. Bran’s stomach dropped. Maybe Les had a phone number. The kid had gotten in touch with him for the interview after all.

Bran took a few steps down the hall into Les’s office in time to hear the end of his conversation with the camera crew. He was using his “stern” voice. For all of Les’s faults and less-than-solid moral fiber, he was good to his boys. Bran felt a twinge of affection for the older man.

Once he had hung up, Bran asked him about contact information for Evan.

“Oh yeah, it’s here somewhere. I think I have an e-mail address for him. No phone number, but we can try this first and see what happens. I’ll keep the other boys’ files out just in case we need to find a replacement.”

Bran nodded, but secretly hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Les stood so Bran could sit at the computer to type. He paused briefly, not quite sure what to say. He’d never had a problem communicating with any of the guys before—strictly business and cutting to the chase—but he felt different about writing to Evan. It seemed more personal somehow, like his words were more permanent than a quick conversation on a cell phone. He began to type.

Evan,

Thank you for coming in to meet with us the other day. Les and I were both very impressed with your performance.

He paused again. Then hit the delete key. Impressed with your performance? It sounded callous. He retyped.

Les and I thought you were really great.

Now he sounded like an overeager teenager.

Les and I both thought you would be a great fit for the Newport project.

Better. That was less agog schoolboy and more mildly approving and professional.

We don’t have any contact information for you other than e-mail, so my phone number is 970-555-6054. If you could give me a call as soon as possible, we were hoping to go over the details for transportation and how the shoot is going to work once we get into Newport in four days.

Hope to talk to you soon,

Noah

Now he would just have to wait for Evan to get in touch with him. He walked back into the kitchen to go down the rest of the contact list for the guys. There was still a lot of work to do that day, including shot lists and scene layouts.

The guys had been provided with an acts list during their interview. A few of the guys had said they were willing to do almost anything, and some of them had taken the list home to look it over. All the guys with the exception of Evan were seasoned and knew the ins and outs of the business. He hoped everything would go smoothly once they were at the house.

E
VAN
woke to the sound of the door on the unit next to his slamming. A few moments later, the sound of a car with no tailpipe vibrated the walls of his tiny room. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. It had only been three nights and he had already had more than enough of this transient lifestyle to last forever.

Four more days and he would be out of the crappy hotel with the peeling wallpaper and filthy carpets. Four more days of greasy takeout food and ramen noodles. Four more days of listening to people having sex through the paper-thin walls. Scratch that. He had no idea if he would be able to hear people having sex at the house. He thought it was pretty likely. Did porn stars have sex with one another after the camera stopped rolling? Evan wasn’t sure. He guessed he would find out soon enough, though.

The fluttering in his stomach started again when he thought about what would happen a few short days from now. He hadn’t been able to think of much else lately, and hoped beyond hope that Noah would be the one he would do his first scene with. The prospect of getting naked again on camera was a bit unnerving, but at least he felt like he knew Noah. He didn’t even know any of the other guys’ names.

Noah had said there would be seven of them altogether. He wondered who the other guys were. Then he had a frightening thought. He wasn’t expected to have sex with all of them, right? He remembered the interview and that Noah and Les had told him he didn’t have to do anything he wasn’t totally comfortable with. Would he be comfortable having sex with six different guys in the span of a week?

There weren’t many eighteen-year-old virgins left in the country. He was a member of an endangered species, but that was about to be quickly remedied. He had given a lot of thought to what he would be willing to do. He hoped he would be able to go through with actual sex. The mechanics of it seemed a bit scary, but the more videos he watched, the more intrigued he became with the whole idea. When he pictured it in his mind, it was Noah fucking him, not the other way around.

Ignoring the niggling feeling that he should be analyzing his reactions a little more closely than he had, he once again decided that ignorance was bliss and chose not to examine the new fantasy.

Everything was ready to go and now it was just a matter of passing the time. He had gone to the clinic the day after the interview. Evan had never been to a clinic before. There had never been a reason to get tested. It was different than he thought it would be. He imagined a seedy building in a bad area of town, with a waiting room full of drug users and prostitutes who sat until a cranky woman behind a desk called them into the back room.

Instead the clinic was clean and brightly lit. The waiting room was almost empty, with the exception of one very nervous-looking teenage girl, and one man in a business suit reading a magazine. The woman behind the desk looked younger than him and smiled as he walked through the door.

“Can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.

“Uhh… yes….” Evan stammered. He hadn’t expected to be this nervous. “I need to get tested.”

“For anything specific or full screening?”

“Full screening, please.”

“Sure.” She handed him a purple plastic clipboard and a pen. “Just fill this out please and when you’re finished bring it back on up here.”

“Thanks.”

Evan took the clipboard and filled in all the necessary information on the form. When he was finished, he obediently returned the form to the woman behind the desk before sitting back in the vinyl chair to wait his turn.

The nervous girl had gone in while he was filling out his paperwork and a few minutes later walked back through the waiting room and out the glass doors with a brown paper bag. She looked relieved.

The man in the suit was next. Standing with easy confidence, he followed the receptionist through the door to the back of the clinic. When she returned, she called Evan’s name. He stood, wiping his sweaty palms down the front of his jeans.

The girl led him into a small room. It looked like every doctor’s office he had ever visited. Same posters, same rough paper cover on the small vinyl bed against the wall. There was the same black rolling stool, various forms, and jars of cotton balls and swabs.

“Have a seat. Someone will be with you in couple of minutes.”

“Sure, thanks.” He nodded.

He heard a familiar crinkling sound as he sat down and the paper folded and crumpled beneath him. His feet hung down over the side of the table and he swung them back and forth, then in circles as he waited. He already knew what the results would be, but Evan didn’t like needles much.

A different young woman entered. She didn’t look like a nurse, dressed in soft gray pants and a navy blue blouse. She greeted him warmly and perched on the stool.

“Hi, Evan. I’m Dr. Reynolds. How are you doing today?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m doing okay. I need… an… uh… STD screening.”

“Alright, I just want to go over a few things not included on the form you filled out since this is our first time meeting. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, Evan, I just need to get a little bit of information about your sexual history. Do you suspect that you’ve been exposed to any STDs in the past?”

“No.”

“Okay. Are you sexually active?”

“No.”

“Any recreational drug use?”

“No.”

The doctor looked up from the chart.

“I need the results for a job,” Evan stammered

Nodding her silent understanding, she simply said, “Alright, well let’s get started.”

Evan was relieved there weren’t any more questions. He knew the doctor’s office was a zone of absolute confidentiality, but it didn’t mean that it was completely removed from judgment. He didn’t want to have to explain exactly what kind of job he needed an STD screening for, but she didn’t push the issue, and he was glad to let it drop.

She stood and opened one of the drawers to her left. From the top one, she pulled a long rubber band and a syringe. Evan held his arm out so his palm faced up. The doctor’s fingers were cool and felt nice against his heated skin.

“Just breathe, Evan. This will only take a second and I’ll do my best to make it completely painless.”

Evan gave her an uneasy smile. “I’m okay,” he said, more for his benefit than hers.

She grabbed the tourniquet and secured it tightly against his upper arm before reaching across the counter and pulling a cotton ball out of the jar. After dousing it in alcohol, she rubbed it over his inner elbow. She opened the syringe.

“You don’t need to look if you don’t want to. Sometimes it helps to look the other way.”

“I’m okay,” he repeated.

“Alright, Evan. One, two, three and a little pinch.” She pushed the needle gently into his arm then removed the elastic squeezing his arm. He hardly felt anything. He watched as the deep red liquid filled the vial. She took three more vials before expertly sliding the needle out and pressing firmly on the little dot with a fresh cotton ball.

She disposed of the needle and gloves before sitting back down.

“Alright, Evan. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Not bad at all.”

“The next part is usually the hardest—anticipating the results—but in your case, it’s probably just a formality. Just give the office a call in three days or so, or you can stop by and pick up the results in person if you prefer. Do you have any questions, or is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so. Thank you, Dr. Reynolds.”

“You’re very welcome, Evan.”

E
VAN
had returned to the clinic three days later, just as Dr. Reynolds had said, and picked up the sheet of paper that declared he had a clean bill of health. That had been yesterday. Since then, Evan had been going crazy with impatience. He actually thought he might lose his mind. He made a checklist of everything he needed to do before September and crossed the items off the list one by one. Now, there was nothing left to do but wait, and it just meant more time he would have to waste before leaving for Newport. He was restless and agitated. Of course time seemed to pass more slowly because all he wanted was for the week to be up already.

He needed to do something. Anything. Desperation often led to terrible decisions, and this Thursday afternoon was no different. Evan rooted through his bag until he found what he was looking for: a pair of shorts and a ratty T-shirt. After pulling the shirt on over his head, he tied the drawstring on the board shorts, then bent down to tighten his sneakers. They weren’t real running shoes, but they would have to do.