Finding Home Read Free

life and what your hopes are for your future.”
    He snorted in derision.
“If you prefer the interview to be confidential, we could go to that diner.” She gestured down the street. “I’ll buy you dinner. You answer my questions. Quick and painless.” She smiled.
    “How much?”
“Excuse me?”
“Fifty bucks for twenty minutes. My time is valuable.”
“Um.” Megan calculated the cash she had available and what bills she needed to pay. “I can give you, uh, twenty.” He seemed to be considering so she added, “Plus the meal. It’s all I can afford.” The ethics of paying for an interview were questionable, but she decided this was a one-time transaction.
    His gaze slowly wandered over her from head to foot.
    Megan wanted to wrap her arms around her body to cover it.
    Finally he nodded. “Okay.”
“Great.” It sounded way too enthusiastic. She repeated in a less spunky tone, “Great.”
    This young man was so self-possessed he made her feel like a child. He strolled toward the restaurant with long, easy strides. Megan had to walk quickly to keep up.
    She sat across from him in the booth, torn vinyl scratching the back of her legs. Inside the diner, she could see the boy more clearly than in patches of neon and shadow. His eyes seemed a brighter shade of blue in the fluorescent light. He scanned the menu and placed his order. The strappy, once-white T-shirt he wore showed off his well-defined arm muscles when he passed the menu back to the waitress. The material of the shirt molded to his chest, outlining the bump of each nipple pressing against it.
    Megan quickly lifted her gaze back to his face.
    He stared at her, eyes flat and calm as a lake on a hot summer day. She could read nothing in them and wondered what he could possibly be thinking of her.
    “You have questions?” he prompted.
“Oh, uh, right.” Megan pulled out her notebook and a small recorder from her purse. “You don’t mind if I tape this? It’s easier than writing everything down.”
    He considered a moment then nodded.
    She pressed the button and spoke. “Interview with…Mouth. White male, age…?”
    “Seventeen.”
“Can you tell me a little about your family and your parents?”
    “There was just my mom.” He didn’t offer anything else. Megan began to understand why Ricky had laughed when he suggested Mouth for an interview. He wasn’t a talker.
    “How did you come to be on your own?”
“My mom was an addict. After we got evicted, there didn’t seem to be much point in sticking around anymore. I could take care of myself better than she could.”
    “You didn’t have any relatives to stay with?”
“No. I stayed at a friend’s place for a while, but I couldn’t live there forever. Then I hooked up with some other kids who live in this abandoned building.”
    “What about a foster home? Did you consider that?”
    He stared at her for a second like she was stupid. “No. I’d rather be on my own.”
    “How did you reach the point of,” she searched for a polite way to phrase the question, “considering prostitution as a source of income?”
    “Some of the kids I knew were whoring, but I wouldn’t at first. I was sure I could find a job. But the days went on and I had no money. This kid, Donnie, convinced me sucking cock was a pretty simple way to make fifty bucks. So one night I did it.”
    Megan swallowed. “How did you feel about it?”
“I didn’t feel anything. He was right. It wasn’t such a big deal and I had enough money to eat for a few days.” His voice was perfectly steady and emotionless.
    Megan felt the cold reality of his answer hit her in the chest. Jesus, what kind of a life was that for a kid? She stared at her notepad, scribbling a few words, afraid he might see the pity in her eyes. “So how old were you when you did that? When you first sold sex?”
    “Sixteen.”
    He hadn’t been on the game all that long then. Megan remembered what she’d been like at sixteen when the whole