Secrets on West Oriole

Chapter 1: The Deal on the Sidewalk

Roy Eberhardt bolted out of his house, his sneakers slapping the pavement as he bypassed his usual bus stop and kept running toward West Oriole, the street where Beatrice Leep lived. His heart raced—not just from the jog, but from the burning need to see her, to unravel the mysteries piling up like storm clouds. He reached her house, pacing the sidewalk, his mind scrambling for an excuse if anyone spotted him. Then, there she was, striding out the front door with that fierce, untamed energy that always made his pulse quicken.

He charged forward, nearly toppling her over in his haste. 'What happened to you yesterday? Where’s your brother? Did you see the paper this morning? Did you—'

Beatrice’s hand shot out, slapping over his mouth with a force that made his teeth click. Her palm was warm, slightly calloused from soccer, and it pressed hard enough to silence him mid-sentence. Her dark eyes glinted with a mix of annoyance and amusement as she leaned in close, her breath hot against his cheek. 'Easy, cowgirl,' she drawled, her voice low and teasing. 'You’re gonna blow a gasket. Let’s go wait for the bus. We’ll talk—and I’ll let you touch my butt on the way.'

Roy froze, her hand still muffling him, his eyes widening in shock. He mumbled against her palm, the words garbled until she finally pulled back with a smirk. 'Wait, what?' he sputtered, his face flushing. 'Touch your… why?'

Beatrice crossed her arms, her stance all confidence and sharp edges. 'It’s part of a deal, Tex. I’ve got secrets—juicy ones—and I need someone to keep ‘em locked tight. You’re that someone. In exchange, you get a little thrill. So, what’ll it be?'

Roy blinked, his mind reeling. Her offer was bold, brazen, and completely Beatrice. He swallowed hard, trying to match her cool. 'What kind of secrets we talkin’ about? I’m not signing up for a blind deal.'

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 'Everything. My brother, the mess at home, the whole damn circus. You keep your mouth shut, and you get to cop a feel while we walk. Fair trade, don’t you think?'

He hesitated for half a second, then nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. 'Deal. But don’t think I’m just in it for the perks. I wanna know what’s got you so riled.'

Beatrice laughed, a sharp, wild sound, and started walking toward the bus stop. 'Good boy. Now, c’mon. Keep up.'

Roy fell into step beside her, his hand hovering awkwardly for a moment before he placed it on her butt. The denim of her jeans was rough under his fingers, the curve firm and unyielding as she strode with purpose. He felt the heat of her through the fabric, and his nerves buzzed with a mix of thrill and guilt. 'This feels… weird,' he muttered, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.

'Relax, Eberhardt,' she shot back, not even breaking stride. 'You’re not groping me in a dark alley. It’s just a little contact. Besides, I’m the one who offered. You gonna chicken out now?'

'No way,' he said, forcing a smirk. 'Just makin’ sure I’m not crossing some line you’ll punch me for later.'

She snorted. 'If I wanted to punch you, you’d already be flat on your ass. Now, listen up. That tooth I broke? Wasn’t from some clumsy fall. I bit a ring off my stepmom’s toe. A topaz charm—my mom’s, before she left. Lonna stole it, had it made into some tacky toe bling. I wasn’t havin’ it.'

Roy’s jaw dropped, his hand still resting on her as they walked. 'You bit it off? Like, full-on chomped her? How the hell—'

'Wasn’t easy,' Beatrice interrupted, flashing a grimace that showed the jagged stump of her incisor. 'Snapped the tip clean off. They’re gonna cap it, make it look brand-new. Good thing Dad’s got dental. And yeah, she was awake. Screamed like a banshee, but I got the ring.'

'That’s insane,' Roy said, half-laughing, half-awestruck. 'You’re a damn force of nature.'

'Damn right,' she fired back, her eyes flashing with pride. 'Anyway, what’s in the paper that’s got you all twitchy?'

Roy pulled the folded news clipping from his pocket, showing her the ad for Mother Paula’s groundbreaking. 'Another pancake joint. Just what the world needs,' she groaned, rolling her eyes. 'Where’s Mullet Fingers? You think he’s heard about this?'

'I haven’t seen him since Sunday,' she admitted, her tone darkening. 'That’s when shit hit the fan at home. He was hiding in the garage, waitin’ for clean shirts, when Dad caught him. They were talkin’, all civil-like, until Lonna stormed in and lost it. Called him a bad seed—whatever the hell that means. He bolted, and now Dad and Lonna aren’t even speakin’. House feels like a damn powder keg.'

Roy’s hand tightened slightly on her, a subconscious gesture of support. 'Sounds like a nightmare. You need a place to crash? I’ve got room.'

Beatrice laughed again, sharp and bitter. 'Thanks, Tex, but Dad says he feels better with me around. Lonna thinks I’m dangerous and crazy. She’s half right.'

They reached the bus stop, and Roy reluctantly pulled his hand away, not wanting to draw eyes. Beatrice, ever the strategist, hooked up with a soccer teammate to chat about last night’s game—her winning penalty kick—while Roy hung back, keeping low. But on the bus, she surprised him, ditching her friend to plop down beside him, deliberately sitting on his hand. The pressure of her ass against his fingers sent a jolt through him, and he shot her a look.

'What?' she whispered, her smirk devilish. 'Gotta keep up appearances. Besides, I can tell you’re gettin’ a kick out of this.'

Roy’s face burned, but he didn’t pull away. 'You’re trouble, Leep. Pure trouble.'

'Damn straight,' she purred, leaning in so her breath tickled his ear. 'And you love it.'

The tension between them crackled, electric and dangerous, as the bus rumbled toward school. Roy’s mind spun with her secrets, her boldness, the heat of her against him. He knew this was just the beginning—and whatever came next, it was gonna be one hell of a ride.