Flyy Girl (13 page)

“Because one of y'all hit her in her eye.”

“Well, you 'bout to go in the house?” Amir asked.

Tracy smiled, anticipating something “juicy.” “I don't know. Why?” she quizzed him.

Once they had reached Tracy's house, Amir sat on her steps and looked up at the moon. “ 'Cause,” he told her, hinting at companionship.

Tracy grinned and sat down beside him. “You got me all wet,” she complained, feeling a cool draft.

Amir said, “Come here. Let me see how wet you are.” He sat Tracy right down on his thigh pad. “Dig it, you are wet.”

“Shet up, boy,” she teased.

Amir looked at her lips. Tracy could sense what he was thinking. He then wrapped his hands around her waist before she had a chance to respond and kissed her. Tracy couldn't resist him. Amir's arms were pretty strong, and Tracy began to like how tightly he held her.

Amir suddenly backed away.

“What 'chew stop for?” Tracy asked him, curiously. She looked up at her house and then next door to make sure no one saw them. She then hopped off of Amir's lap in a panic.
Oh my God! What am I
doing?
she asked herself.
I could have gotten busted, right in front of
my house.

“ 'Cause,” Amir said again.

Tracy hopped down a few steps to distance herself from him. “ 'Cause what?”

Amir paused. “You wanna come over my house Monday?”

“I'on care,” Tracy said without thinking. She simply went with the feeling, and the feeling from Amir was good.

Amir grinned, surprised that she had agreed. “How old are you?”

“Thirteen. Why?”

“Oh, I was just asking. So you coming to my house, Monday, after school, right?” he asked again, just to make sure.

“Aw'ight,” Tracy chirped, still filled with sneaky excitement. She then got up to go inside the house as Amir took off running, carrying a big smile on his face.

Tracy thought about the next thing that comes after kissing that night. It tickled her stomach to think about the possibility of “doin' it.”
I don't know,
she told herself.
I don't know if I want to.

Tracy bragged about her football team's record at school. They were still undefeated and on their way to a sure championship. Students wore jerseys from other teams and argued with her up and down the halls in between their classes. Tracy had forgotten all about going over to Amir's house. She wasn't ready to go past kissing yet. She had hardly done that. Amir had been the first and only boy Tracy had kissed since Aaron Barnes, at least five boyfriends ago. Having a boyfriend was like watching television to Tracy. She didn't have to get too involved, she would just change the channel and watch something new.

Tracy came across three girls inside of the lunchroom. They had some interesting gossip to nose in on.

“I know, he is nasty. He only want you for one thing,” a slim brown girl was saying.

“Yup, and that's why I don't talk to him no more,” a darker brown girl responded.

“But Todd is cute though, ain't he?” a lemon-skinned girl interjected.

“Yeah, but forget Amir. Bunk him, y'all, 'cause he's just a user.”

The shock was enough to ruin Tracy's day. Raheema was right. It came back to Tracy that she was supposed to go over Amir's house after school.
I'm not going to that boy's house,
she thought.
He ain't
gettin' none from me. That boy thinks I'm stupid. He's out here trying
to get everybody.

“Ay, girl, what's up?” Amir called, as soon as Tracy stepped out of her building. Several football players from her school shook his hand. Tracy wasn't impressed. She kept pacing by, ignoring him.

“Where you goin'?” he asked her.

“I'm going home.”

“I thought you said you was gon' come over today.”

“Did you get out of school early?” Tracy asked, avoiding his question.

“Yeah, we get out earlier than y'all every day. I'm in high school.”

Tracy frowned at him. “You don't trust me or something? I said I was gonna come.”

“Oh, I'm supposed to
trust you
so you can sell me out?” Amir retorted.

“You can't take my word for it?” Tracy asked him.

Amir shook his blocked-shaped head. “Nope.”

“Well, you go find yourself somebody else then,” Tracy responded to him, walking away.

Amir went back to his friends.

“Yo, what happened, man?”

“Fuck that girl, cuz',” he answered, sourly. “She ain't nothin'. Bet, here comes Carmen.”

Carmen walked out from the building, switching her firm young hips and wearing a bright red jacket. She stood out from everyone, and her soft brown skin smelled of cocoa-butter cream.

Amir waited for her to walk near him. Carmen tried not to notice. Amir stepped in her way.

“Where you goin'?”

“I'm goin' home,” Carmen responded nervously.

“No you ain't. You goin' wit' me,” he told her, snatching her by the hand.

Carmen asked, “Where we goin'?”

“We goin' to my boy's crib. Why, you don't wanna go wit' me?” he snapped, letting go of her hand momentarily.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well, shet up and come on then.”

Tracy shot up in height during the football season to tower over most of the boys. She lost her babyface look, and she began to wear her hair shoulder length and curled. Although she was just thirteen, her size made her appear seventeen or eighteen. Tracy had developed into a vivaciously curved young lady, with a new hobby, observing herself inside of the mirror.

Raheema grew a bit herself, but neither she nor her older sister, Mercedes, had grown anywhere as tall or as well-defined as Tracy had. Tracy outgrew most of the girls her age, beginning to look more like a high-schooler than an eighth-grader. She was beginning to attract the attention of much older guys as well. High-schoolers had always gathered after school to entice younger girls who were willing to step up in competition. And at least physically, Tracy had crossed over into the bigger, faster league of the dating game.

On a Friday afternoon in the frost of winter, Tracy headed home from school, sensing plenty of the lustful teenaged eyes glued to her back
side. Expecting them to approach her, Tracy was
more
than willing to test her tempting skills of persuasion with the older guys. By the time she reached the corner, one high-school boy had decided to try his luck.

“Ay, sexy, come here for a minute,” he said, smiling with assurance. He knew he was older than Tracy, and young-girls were easy to talk to.

Tracy cracked a grin and walked over to him, swaying her newly developed hips as she pouted her medium-full lips and licked them wet as she stood.

The boy anxiously thought about what to say to her.
What's the
coolest line?
he mused. “Yeah, umm, what's your name?” he asked, warming up his game.

“It's Tracy,” she answered him, huskily and slow. “Why?”

“ 'Cause you look good, and I wanna get to know you.”

Tracy used her stabbing hazels to dazzle him. “You looking for a girlfriend, or just somebody to mess wit'?” she quizzed him.

The older boy was stunned. “What? Oh, I mean, I'on know,” he said, stumbling.

“What's your name?” Tracy asked him.

“Jeff.”

“Where your girlfriend at, Jeff?
I know
you got one. Don't you?”

Jeff backed off, trying desperately to get himself together. “I ain't got no girlfriend,” he mumbled. His self-assurance was gone in the wind. Tracy had turned out to be more than what he had expected.

“Why not? You look cute to me,” she told him, while moving in closer to him. Tracy always knew when she had a boy on his heels.

Jeff laughed nervously. “Come on now,” he responded, losing eye contact with her. She was invading his comfort zone.

Tracy knew she would reject him. Jeff was not cool enough to gain her consideration. She just wanted to practice
her
game, and she was doing extremely well.

Jeff asked, “Where's your boyfriend?”

Tracy fixed the new gold ring that she wore on her right hand. “I don't have one.”

“Oh yeah,” Jeff responded meaninglessly. He was hesitant to continue. The young girl was more than he had bargained for.

Tracy locked in on his eyes with hers. She knew the effect that this would have. Only the most confident boys could survive her intent stare. “Are you finished?” she asked him seductively, loving every minute of it.

“Yeah, but umm, I'll see you around, aw'ight,” he stammered.

The high-schooler backed completely away, embarrassed with himself. Tracy turned to walk home, beaming from ear to ear.

“Yo, you didn't answer me,” he pouted. His friends were approaching.

Tracy turned with a smile and said, “Bye,” breathlessly. She figured that Jeff
had
to show off for his friends.
All
the guys did it.

When Tracy arrived at home, her neighbor, Raheema, was at the door. Tracy was tempted to gossip with her like she had done with Mercedes, yet she quickly realized that their interests in life were different. All Raheema talked about was what the teachers did in school. She was not interested in any of Tracy's boy stories. Nevertheless, they decided to chat. Tracy went into Raheema's house, getting out of the cold.

Raheema said, “All you talk about is boys, and I remember when you didn't even like them.”

“Well, all I know is that Todd was cute. And you should have talked to him.”

“Don't play dumb with me, Tracy. I heard about you kissing him in the driveway.”

Tracy twisted her lips.
“You
didn't want him.” She had moved on from Amir and on to his friend Todd.

Raheema huffed, “I know I didn't. I don't
want
any boys, thank you.”

“Oh, you think you so smart, don't 'chew?”

“No, but I'm not getting
used
by any boy, that's for sure.”

“How you know?”

“Because I won't talk to them,” Raheema answered frankly. “That's why I'm going into dance class, to do something that doesn't involve boys.”

“What dance class?” Tracy asked, feeling left out. Football season and cheerleading were over.

“None of your business,” Raheema snapped. She had outdone Tracy again.

Tracy went home and waited impatiently for her mother to arrive with her brother. She wanted the 4-1-1 on Raheema's dance class, and she had a fool-proof plan of how to get it.

“Hey mom, I think it would be good for me to be in a dance class. You know how bored I get after doing my homework.”

“Yeah, okay then,” Patti responded, while taking off her son's coat and hat. “Where is it at and all?”

Tracy grinned. “I don't know all that, but Ra-Ra's in it, so Ms. Beth probably knows.”

Patti called Beth about the dance class. It was held near Patti's sister Tanya's house in Logan. Patti called Tanya to see if she wanted Patrice, or “Reese,” as they called her, to take dance lessons, too. Tracy didn't expect that. But Reese was not that bad when she was not around her other cousins, Trish and Marie. Reese took sides with them rather than with Tracy because she was afraid of them.

On the first day of dance, their instructor went over the calendar schedule for the four-month dance session. During their first exercises, Tracy snickered at her cousin Reese's form, while Raheema did the same to her. For all three of them, it was more hard work than expected. Tracy found out rather quickly that dance was definitely more complicated than cheerleading.

A flock of rough boys played basketball inside of the recreation center where the girls held their dance lessons. The boys watched the girls with excitement. Every year the boys anticipated the pretty new girls that dance classes attracted to their rec center. It had become a ritual, and it was only a matter of time before they would start to mingle with the girls. On Tracy's third night of class, a boy finally approached her.

“Ay girl, you cute as shit,” he told her. “Why don't you come over here and talk to me when you finish?” he said.

“Thank you,” Tracy responded to him. She began to smile in his
direction before she took a good look at him. Once she got a better look at him, Tracy thought that he was ugly. “That's okay. My mom is coming to get me,” she told him.

The forward boy persisted. “So what? She ain't here yet.”

Tracy lied and said, “Well, I have a boyfriend.”

The boy then got an attitude and grimaced at her. “Dude ain't here either,” he said, walking closer to her.

Tracy scrambled to her feet from her stretching position. “Naw, that's all right,” she said. The boy then moved as if he was about to grab her. Tracy quickly dashed toward the dance instructor. “Ms. Hamilton, that boy is after me,” she squealed.

“Leave her alone, Ricky!” Ms. Hamilton screamed at the boy.

The boy smiled. “Aw, I was just playin' with her, Ms. Hamilton, that's all.”

Tracy was excited about the close call when her mother arrived. She told Patti what happened, and her mother laughed good and hard. Raheema rode home with them after Patti had dropped her niece, Reese, off.

“Hey, dad. What's up?” Tracy perked when she had arrived home with her mother.

Dave sat watching television with his son. He looked at Tracy as if he was in shock.
“Damn!
Who are you?” he responded, jokingly.

They smiled at each other and shared a laugh.

“She just blossomed like that overnight,” Patti told him with a grin. It was Dave's first time seeing his daughter in a leotard.

Dave said, “Come here and turn around.” Tracy felt embarrassed as she turned around in her baby-blue tights. “Gir-r-r-l, you got a big butt back
there,”
Dave said with a laugh.

Tracy gushed, “Yup, dad, I grew. Didn't I?”

“You damn sure did. Your mother's gonna have to put a curfew on you now.”

Patti said nothing.

Tracy smirked as she sat down beside him. “Yup, dad, this ugly boy tried to talk to me today,” she told him.

“Did you give him your phone number?”

Tracy looked disgusted. “No, that boy looked like a monster.”

Dave grinned. “Those are the best ones. They'll do anything for you.”

Patti had had enough. She marched to her usual spot in the kitchen. She was no longer crazy about seeing Dave as long as he insisted on playing presto man, popping in and out of their lives.

“Naw, dad, you can have that. My man has to look
good,”
Tracy was telling him.

Patti came back out from the kitchen wearing her apron. “How was your dance class, other than the boy?”

Tracy shrugged. “I mean, it was okay. It's a lot of work though.”

Little Jason jumped up on Tracy's lap to get some attention.

“Get off of me, boy,” she huffed, pushing him away.

“Stop, Tracy. He's just being friendly,” Patti reasoned.

“I'm tired of him jumping all over me, mom.”

Dave grimaced. “Oh, you're
that
mature now, hunh?” he asked. “I remember when you were running around here with a snotty nose and doo-doo stains in your drawers.”

Tracy threw her hands over her ears in embarrassment. Dave and Patti laughed as she tried to block them out.

Patti asked, “How are you getting along with Reese?”

Tracy smiled, still feeling stunned. “She's all right. She doesn't say much to me.”

“She's your cousin, Tracy,” Patti fumed at her.

“Yeah, but they start stuff all the time.”

“Well, how is Raheema doing?” Dave asked.

“She's all right, too. We just have differences in opinion.”

“What about Mercedes? What she been into?”

“She's been all over the place by now,” Patti answered him. She had recently talked to Beth about it. “Mercedes is out there in them streets, chasing after the money.”

Tracy added, “Yup, she got some real nice clothes, too.”

“Didn't you need some new jeans?” Dave asked Tracy as he pulled out his wallet.

“Yeah. I'm starting to outgrow everything now,” Tracy answered him. She watched her father peel off five twenties.

Dave handed it out to her. “This is all I got for you right now.”

Tracy took the money with a nod and cracked a grin. “Thanks, dad. Me and mom can go shopping this weekend.”

Again, Patti decided to hold her tongue to keep the peace.
A couple
pairs of jeans does not excuse you from acting like an asshole,
she thought to herself.

Saturday came quickly, and Tracy went out shopping at the mall with her mother. Tracy tried on clothes in every store they entered. She just
had
to have brand-name fashions. Patti urged her to buy bargains, but bargains ruin teenaged reputations. Tracy wanted to dress stylishly.

She bought Coca-Cola, Guess and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans along with an Adidas sweat suit and three pairs of shoes. She then went with her mother to a jewelry store for a gold bracelet.

Dave's hundred dollars was spent after the first two pair of jeans. Patti ended up paying for her daughter's other things. And since Tracy wanted to keep up with the trends, she worked it out with her father to receive seventy dollars for shopping every other week. Soon her closets were filled with gear.

Tracy began to out-dress everyone at school, and every boy wanted her phone number. When Christmas time came, she had clothing under the tree. Tracy could not get enough. She spent hours matching and ironing clothing for each school day. She would then change her outfits several times each morning until she was satisfied with what she planned on wearing.

Tracy became a hot topic with the boys in her neighborhood. With the increase in her already large ego, she decided that
no one
was good
enough for her. She had far surpassed Mercedes' popularity at thirteen. And Tracy had not given up
any.
She was a proud virgin.

“Ay, what's up, Tracy? Who's your boyfriend?” an eighth-grader asked inside the school hallway.

Tracy closed her locker. “Don't worry about it,” she told him.

“Dag, I'm just askin'.”

“Well don't, and get away from my locker.”

As the bell rang, the eighth-grader asked, “Can
I
talk to you?”

“Excuse me, I'm late for class,” Tracy said, walking by.

“Well, I'll walk you there.”

“I don't
need you
to walk me to class, boy. I got legs.”

The boy smiled admiringly, as Tracy stepped away from him. She walked through the hall with her head high, strutting around as if she was a teenaged queen and was late for her class.

“Tracy, you have two more times to walk into my class late, and then you'll have a detention,” the teacher warned her. Ms. Patterson was a white woman in her early thirties, shorter than Tracy and with jet black hair and glasses.