Flyy Girl (14 page)

Tracy smiled nonchalantly. She was unfazed by the teacher's warning.

Ms. Patterson asked, “Tracy Ellison, what did I just say?”

“Hunh? I don't know.”

There was a pause. Tracy was becoming a distraction to the class. “I am sick and tired of you daydreaming in my class,” Ms. Patterson yelled at her.

Tracy rolled her eyes. “Well, don't ask me no questions then.”

“Do you think that you're too
good
to answer questions, Tracy?”

Tracy sighed and ignored her.

“That's it! GO to the principal's office, because I'm SICK OF YOU!”

“I was
paying
attention,” Tracy snapped.

“Well, turn around, sit up, and listen.”

A boy snickered at Tracy from the back of the class.

“What 'chew laughin' at, boy?” Tracy said to him.

“Aw, shet up, girl. You think you
it
now, just because you got your Christmas presents on.”

The students roared with laughter.

“I ain't get this for Christmas,” Tracy ranted.

“Yes, you did. You even got Christmas glitter on your jeans.”

“GET OUT! Both of you! NOW!” Ms. Patterson hollered.

“Aw, Ms. Patterson, I didn't even do nothin',” the boy whined, throwing his hands in the air as he pleaded.

Tracy frowned. “Yes he did.”

They left for the principal's office with a note for detentions. The boy's long arms swung loosely from his tall, walnut-colored frame as he strolled in front of Tracy.

“See, boy, you got me in trouble,” Tracy said to him.

“Yeah, I know. But Santa Claus
was
good to you this year. Wasn't he?” the boy joked.

“Shet up,” Tracy snapped with a smile.

Long-arms was a regular comedian.

They sat inside of the main office lobby with five other students, all waiting to be seen by the principal. There were two girls and three boys. Tracy was the most glamorous thing in the room. She wore black leather boots with a long gray skirt and a matching gray sweater. She wore lip gloss and two gold chains that were neatly draped over her sweater, and a black leather purse dangling from her shoulder. She felt embarrassed to have to sit inside of the lobby with six lowifes.

Tracy sucked her teeth. “I'm tired of waiting in here.”

“Shet up, girl. Do you think I like bein' out here?” the long-armed boy snapped at her, demanding respect and attention. He smiled at her once Tracy had piped down. “Sike, I'm just jokin' with you,” he said.

Tracy lied. “I
know
you was.”

Long-arms grinned at her. “But for real though, you look cute. I don't want you to think that I don't know it.”

“Thank you.”

“Yup, I feel like taking you into the bathroom and just
giving it
to you,” he said with a smile. Tracy couldn't believe what he said, and he kept a straight face when he said it.

“I mean, you think I'm jokin', but I'm serious,” he added.

Tracy smirked with nervous energy. She was scared to say anything. Long-arms seemed to turned everything into an embarrassing joke.

“You know we gon' be here all day after school,” he commented.

“For real?” Tracy asked, unaware. She had never had a detention before.

“Yup, so you might as well come over to my house and have dinner.”

Tracy smiled. “You a trip.”

“So, Tracy, who's your boyfriend?” he asked her. “Because I'm ready to give dude a handshake.”

“I don't have one.”

“For real?”

“Yup.”

Long-arms cracked a broad smile. “You might as well give me your number then,” he said, taking out a pen and notebook to write it down. The other students eyed Tracy to see if she would oblige.

Tracy didn't think the boy was good-looking, but he
was
funny. She could not refuse him. The boy was simply amusing, and his offbeat comments kept her on her toes.

He smiled at her, half-expecting that she would give it to him. “So what is it?”

Tracy ran her number off to him. “Eight-four-two, five-four-three-seven.”

He sloppily jotted it down. “Aw'ight, bet. When can I call you up?”

“I got dance class tonight, so I won't be home until nine.”

“Aw, you into that stupid shit?” he snapped, for another laugh.

Tracy giggled at it herself. “It ain't stupid,” she argued.

“Yes that shit is. Y'all be in there doin' all that jumpin' around and stuff for like a year, to do
one
show.”

Tracy began to laugh with the other students. Long-arms was the life of the party. “So what?” she told him. “It builds your body though.”

“Yeah, 'cause I'ma tear
your
body up.”

The boy's rash humor was intriguing to Tracy. He was even taller than her, for a change.

“You know my name, right?” he quizzed her.

“Umm, it's Travis, ain't it?” she said, acting as if she was not sure about it.

“Yeah, that's it,” Travis said. He chuckled, knowing that she knew.

The principal roared, “You two! Get inside of my office!”

Tracy didn't have a love-at-first-sight feeling about Travis, but there were definitely sparks between them. He had plain looks, but a lot of character. Travis was unafraid to speak his mind, and Tracy could not wait to talk to him after her dance class.

“One, two, three, four, and one, two, three, four,” Ms. Hamilton chanted, coordinating the class. “Raheema, what's wrong with you today? You're not in the rhythm at all, honey.”

“I'm not feeling too well,” Raheema whimpered.

“Come here.” Ms. Hamilton pulled Raheema over to the side of the room.
Lord, I hope and pray that this girl isn't pregnant or something,
she thought to herself.
She has her whole life ahead of her.
Ms. Hamilton had come in contact with all kinds of problem children over the years. “What's wrong?” she asked Raheema, privately.

“I got a D on one of my tests. I'm scared that I'm gonna get in trouble,” Raheema answered, with tears in her eyes.

Ms. Hamilton was relieved. “Baby, you're not gonna get in trouble for
one
D,” she contested. “Don't you have straight A's on your report card?”

Tears rolled down Raheema's cheeks. “Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything.”

“What do you think is going to happen to you?”

Raheema wiped her eyes. “My father's gonna say that I can't dance anymore.”

“Honey, he's not going to do that. The show is coming up soon.”

“Yes he is. I know it.”

“Well, what if I talk to your parents?”

“You can only talk to my mother. My father won't listen to you.”

“Okay then. I'll give your mother a call tonight.”

Ms. Hamilton spoke to Beth about her daughter's situation. Beth told her that her husband was not upset, but that Raheema would have to study more on the weekends to compensate for time lost to her dance lessons.

“Hey mom, did I get any phone calls earlier?” Tracy asked, just to make sure. It was after nine o'clock. Travis was supposed to have called her by then.
Maybe he forgot about my dance class and called
me earlier,
she thought.

“No. Were you expecting one?”

“Yeah,” Tracy said, disappointed.

BRRRRIIIINNNNNGG!

“That's for me, mom. I'll get it,” Tracy said while scrambling for the phone. “Hello, this is Tracy,” she answered.

Patti sneered at her. “Now you know better than to answer the phone like that,” she huffed.

“Yo, what's up?” Travis responded.

“Nothin'. I thought you were gonna call me at nine o'clock.”

“I would have, but my mom was on the phone.”

Patti decided to head up the steps and put Jason to bed. He had fallen asleep during the car ride from Tracy's dance class.

Tracy immediately got more comfortable, plopping her feet up on the coffee table. “Well, I got home late from dance class anyway,” she said to Travis.

“So why you ask me if I called, then?” he snapped.

Tracy smiled. “Because you said you would.”

They talked all night and about everything. Travis made Tracy laugh
for hours. When it had reached midnight though, Patti decided that enough was enough and abruptly ended their conversation.

“Tracy, get off of this damn phone.”

“Okay, mom. We're almost finished.”

“I mean, now, girl.”

“All right,” Tracy snapped. “I'll see you tomorrow,” she said to Travis, glumly.
She could of at least came and told me instead
jumping all on the phone like that,
she fumed to herself.
That was em
barrassing.

“Aw'ight then,” Travis told her as they hung up.

Travis began to laugh once they had hung up the phone.

That next school day, Tracy wore her Coca-Cola jeans, white sneakers and blue Adidas sweat-suit jacket over a white tennis shirt.

“Ay, what's up, Tracy?” a clean-cut boy asked her inside of the hallway.

“Hi, Martin,” she responded.

“Oh, you're speaking to me today, hunh?”

“Yeah, but don't get excited about it.”

Jantel came to talk to her. “Tracy, you hear about those girls wanting to beat you up?” she whispered.

“What girls?” Tracy asked, quizzically.

“I heard that it was Jackie and Sharon.”

Martin butted in. “They're not gon' do nothin' to you. If they do, I'm jumping in it.”

“What they wanna fight me for?” Tracy asked Jantel.

“I'on know,” Jantel answered.

“Well,
who
told you this, Jantel?” Martin quizzed.

“I heard Crystal telling some girl in the bathroom.”

“Well, what she got to do with anything?” Tracy asked.

Jantel hunched her shoulders. “I'on know that either.”

Tracy grabbed her things. “Come on.”

They marched down the hall after Tracy. Crystal was shutting her locker as they arrived.

“Ay Crystal, Jackie and Sharon said they was gon' jump me?” Tracy asked her.

Crystal backed away as if she was in on it. “I didn't say that,” she responded, frantically.

“Jantel said she heard you in the bathroom.”

Crystal took a quick look at Jantel, who was embarrassed that Tracy put her name in it. “Well, I didn't say that, and
she
need to mind her own business.”

“Yes you did. I heard you talking about it in the bathroom,” Jantel spoke up.

“Won't you get the facts straight if you gon' start spreadin' gossip on somebody?” Crystal snapped at her. They squared off with each other. Jantel stood about three inches taller, but Crystal was ten pounds heavier.

Tracy butted in. “Look, I'm gon' let you know right now, Crystal, they
better not
jump me, 'cause I'm gon' get all of y'all if they do.”

“And I got her back,” Martin interjected.

Crystal stared at him.
That boy better go ahead somewhere. My
boyfriend'll kick his ass,
she thought to herself.

Other students began to watch. They were shocked by Tracy's bravery. Then again, Tracy was taller than Crystal, Jackie
and
Sharon. Only Sharon was near Tracy's size.

Crystal backed off, with a message to tell her friends.

When Tracy was late again for the same class, Ms. Patterson had a mouthful to say. “Tracy, get out of my room. I've decided to write a pink slip on you. You've been late to this class
several
times now, and you never pay any attention while in class. I'm surprised that you're even passing.”

“No, Ms. Patterson, these girls were trying to get me after school, so I had to straighten that out, 'cause I don't play that.”

“Come here,” Ms. Patterson responded to her. She walked out of the class and shut the door behind them. “Now who's after you?” she asked, peering through her thin-rimmed glasses.

“Jantel told me that it was Jackie and Sharon, but I think that Crystal Johnson has something to do with it, too.”

“Well, why are they after you?”

“I don't know, but I don't appreciate it.”

“You and Travis have detentions today, right?” Ms. Patterson asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Tracy answered.
What does that have to do with anything?
she mused.
I'm about to get jumped after school, and she's sittin' up
here asking me about some damn detentions!

“Well, where is he?” she asked of Travis. “I've been noticing that he's been absent from school a lot.”

Tracy hunched her shoulders and frowned. “Well, I don't know where he is,” she said, still annoyed about Ms. Patterson giving her the third degree. She had more pressing concerns. Tracy had anticipated seeing Travis in school and had even dressed for him, yet he was not there. To top it off, she had a fight on her hands.

“Well, look, you go to your detention, and I'll see about these girls,” Ms. Patterson informed her.

Tracy felt relieved. “Okay.”

After her detention, she rushed home to see what had happened to Travis. Travis was not home when she called. Tracy let the phone ring six times before she hung up. She then sat in the house, bored, with no dance class scheduled. She watched television in the living room before falling asleep on the couch.

“I got some Chinese food here, Tracy,” her mother walked in announcing, waking Tracy from her unexpected nap. Jason followed close behind as Patti took the food inside the kitchen.

Tracy climbed to her feet and followed them. She got a plate and tasted the food with a grimace. “Did you get this from the same place we usually go, mom?” she asked.