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Authors: Omar Tyree

Flyy Girl (39 page)

BOOK: Flyy Girl
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“No, girl. We just call him that, because he swear he can play some jazz. But he do be jammin' though.”

“Yup,” Joanne added.

Kiwana said, “Yeah, don't worry about him. The boy has a serious ego problem.”

“Ay, what's up, girl?” a handsome, muscular guy with a golden-brown complexion stepped up and asked Lisa. He then slammed his big arm around her shoulder.

“Hey, Carl. When did you get here?”

“I'm just walking in now.”

Tracy liked him immediately. He seemed cool, as if he had everything under control, and the tank top that he wore displayed his attractive muscular arms.

“Well, how come y'all not doin' this party, Carl?” Kiwana asked him.

Carl said, “We had this other party last night out West Philly. That party was s-o-o-o live, ‘Kia.' ”

“My name is Kiwana, Carl. How many times do I have to tell you that?” she retorted.

Carl hugged her with his thick, golden-brown arms. “I know, girlfriend. But I like to call you ‘Kia' because you're so cute and cuddly.”

Tracy was envious again. She wanted Carl to wrap that beautiful body of his around hers.

Lisa said, “Oh, so y'all just said the hell with this party, hunh?”

Carl answered, “No, but the plans were made weeks ago, and we didn't know if we would be able to do this one or not.” He then looked at Tracy tenderly.

She responded quickly and before he could turn away from her. “Hi you doin'?”

“Oh, this my
little
girlfriend, Tracy,” Lisa interjected.

Carl's golden-brown skin shined in the flashing disco lights. He had a soothing personality. Tracy felt relaxed around him, as if they had known each other for years.

“Well, can I dance with the charmer?” he asked Lisa.

“Yeah, I'll dance with you,” Tracy answered.

Carl was impressed by her assertiveness. They eased out onto the dance floor where he asked her, “So, are you still in high school?”

“Yup,” she perked.

Carl smiled at her exuberant energy. “I figured you were, since Lisa called you her
‘little'
girlfriend. But it doesn't really matter too much to me.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because, the social age of a person is more important than just a number. I started school early, because my birthday is in January, so I'm not much older than you are,” he told her.

“Are you an English major or something?” Tracy asked, listening to his proper diction. He seemed a lot more easygoing with his speech
than her previous friend Keith did. Carl did not seem concerned with putting on airs.

“Well yeah, but I'm more than that actually,” he answered.

“What do you mean?” Tracy quizzed.

“I'm majoring in communications, which entails more than just an English requirement. I also play football.”

“Oh,” Tracy said, smiling. The more they talked, the more she liked him. “Do you plan on getting married soon?” she asked, jumping ahead of herself. She figured that Patti had met
her
husband at a campus party, so why not her?

Carl said, “You know, a lot of guys would shy away from that question, but I feel as though I could, if the right girl came along and caught me off-guard.”

Yes!
Tracy thought.
He's marriable.
“Why she gotta catch you ‘off-guard?' ” she wanted to know.

“Because, to be truthful, I'm not looking straight down the aisles of a wedding, or at least not yet. I mean, I'm only a sophomore. And since I was skipped, I'm only eighteen years old. You're acting as if I'm twenty-five already.”

“Yo, what's up, Carl?” a tall friend interrupted, shaking his hand. Carl was just a few inches taller than Tracy, but his friend appeared to be a basketball-slamming giant. He looked into her face and stepped back. “Damn, you always get the good ones! Hunh, young-boah'?”

Carl smiled and said, “No, she's just my friend.”

“Well, I would love to have a friend like her,” the giant said, laughing before he walked away.

It was upsetting to be so close to such a gorgeous person and be called “just a friend.” Tracy did not like the sound of that.

“You have a girlfriend or something?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well, how many girls are you talking to?”

“I'm talking to you, right now.”

Tracy raised her brow, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I want to talk to you. Matter of fact, come here.” Carl led Tracy by the hand. Her college girlfriends were all doing their own things by then.

Tracy followed Carl over to one of his friends, who was standing near the turntables. She was wondering what Carl was doing. She was apprehensive about saying anything though. She figured that she would simply trust him.

Carl yelled, “AY JOE, you got some paper back there?”

“Yeah, hold up,” Joe said, looking in the corner of the stage set.

Once he received the paper and a pen, Carl wrote his phone number down. He didn't ask Tracy for hers.

Tracy asked with a smile, “Don't you want mine?”

Carl checked out her earrings. Patti had given them back to her. “Oh, I'll get it from you when you call me,” he said, touching them. Tracy didn't like guys to touch her earrings. But what the hell? she
trusted him.
Carl said, “You know, you don't need these big clumsy things, Tracy. You're already attractive in my eyes. You don't need any artificial additives.”

Tracy beamed and thought,
That was a good one. I like that. He has
class.

Tracy and her college girlfriends squeezed back into the Toyota at the night's end. Patti had met Tracy's new friends weeks ago, deciding it would be good for her daughter to hang out with college girls, and Dave had agreed. “It'll get Tracy's head screwed on right, and get her focused toward going to school,” Patti told him. She also gave Tracy a warning, “You make sure you keep them panties on up there, unless you feel you're ready to raise your
own
household. You hear me?”

“Tracy, wake up, girl!” Kiwana said, shoving her inside of the car.

Lisa asked from the wheel, “Is she asleep?”

“Girl, she knocked out like a baby.”

Joanne said, “It looked like her and Carl were strapped together all night.”

Tracy grinned with her eyes still closed.

“Oh, she
heard
that?” Kiwana said, noticing her smile. “So you're talkin' to him now, or what?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Tracy told her.

Joanne smiled. “Hmm, she went up there and booked a guy on the first night. A good one at that.”

“Yeah, well, Carl's kind of young anyway. But he is nice,” Lisa added.

Kiwana only smiled at the idea. She had turned Carl down before, but it wasn't because she didn't like him. She simply had someone else in mind for her affections, someone older.

Tracy slept good that night, finally waking up in mid-afternoon. It was a chilly Saturday, but the sun shined through all of the windows, warming her face, and Jason was busy running around the house, up and down the steps, letting Tracy know it was a normal weekend. She then began to smile up at the ceiling, wondering how she and Carl would get along as a couple.

Patti flung her door open. “Get on up, Tracy. You think you gonna lay up in bed all day? You got work to do. And you can start by hanging up all these clothes and mess, all over this damn room.”

Her mother walked back out, leaving the door open, and Tracy continued to lay there, uninspired.

Jason yelled, “Mommy, she not gettin' up!” He walked over to the bed and sat on Tracy's leg. He wore a bright red, green and blue Oshkosh outfit, and he had a new haircut.

Tracy responded, shaking him from her leg, “Get off of me, boy!”

Jason laughed, attempting to sit on her again.

“Stop playin', Jason,” she warned.

“NO! Mommy told you to get up.”

“See, you gon' make me hurt you,” Tracy said, leaning up to grab him.

Jason jumped up and ran out of her room giggling.

Tracy decided to get up and take a shower before she did her house
chores. Once she was halfway finished cleaning up the house, the doorbell rang.

“TRA-CY, it's Raheema!” Patti yelled up the steps to her.

Tracy ran down the steps and spotted a huge smile on her next-door neighbor's face. “What are you so happy about?”

“What, I can't just be in a good mood?”

“Well, are you?”

“Yeah, because my father is goin' away for a week on a job trip.”

Tracy grinned. “My father comes back and now your father is leaving for a week,” she commented.

Raheema smiled back at her. “I know, right?”

Tracy was suspicious. “A job trip for a week, hunh?” she asked, contemplating the idea. “Sounds like your father is having an affair somewhere, to me,” she wildly assumed.

“Well, I don't care if he is. Shucks! As long as he's not in my face for a week, the more power to him.”

“But what about your mother?”

Raheema shrugged and said, “She's tired of him too.”

“And that's why you all happy t'day?”

“Yeah, because things are more peaceful when it's just me and my mother. We're like girlfriends when he's not around. I can talk to her,” she said with a smile. “But you know, you can't tell your mother everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tracy said, returning the smile. “Our mothers didn't tell their mother's
everything
either.”

Raheema responded, “Yeah, but I bet you're glad that your dad is back. He's cool.”

Tracy nodded. “Yeah. At first I thought he was gonna come back and start telling me what to do all the time, but he's been all right.”

Raheema took off her jacket as they had a seat on the couch. She then asked, “You know what, Tracy? I wonder what makes one man cool and another man evil.”

Tracy hunched her shoulders. “I would say the environment that they grew up in.”

“So you think my father grew up in a rough environment?”

“Oh, I mean family environment.”

“Yeah, that's what I mean too.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. I bet your grandfather was meeean.”

Raheema laughed and said, “I know. He probably was. I've never even met the man.”

Tracy looked at her, surprised. “You never met your grandfather?”

“Nope. And I don't want to either.”

“Dag, that's messed up.”

“Well, how often do you go to visit your
cousins,
Tracy?”

Tracy answered, chuckling, “Never.”

Raheema laughed and said, “See. So you can't talk about me then?”

Jason ran in to have a seat next to them on the couch, while Patti busied herself in her room. Dave had gone in to work earlier; he expected to be getting off soon.

Raheema stretched her arms and looked over at Jason, who was eying an afternoon horror movie on TV. “Dag, he's getting cuter everyday,” she said.

“Yup, and he got all the girls in his school giving him candy and stuff,” Tracy responded, smiling at him.

“Shet up, Tra-cy,” Jason retorted, hearing them talking about him.

“Tell Ra-Ra your girlfriend's name.”

“No, because I don't like girls. They always want me to play with them.”

Both girls laughed as Raheema got up and headed for the door. “Well, I'll see you later, because my mom and I are going shopping,” she announced to Tracy.

“All right then,” Tracy said, getting up to shut the door.

“You a dummy, Tracy!” Jason hollered, facing her.

“Why you say that, boy?”

“ 'Cause, you always tellin' girls about me.”

Tracy smiled. “So? They all like you,” she responded to him.

Jason huffed, “ 'Dat's why I hate 'chew, Tracy.”

Tracy was stunned. She bent over to face him for a response. “You hate me for real?”

Jason crossed his arms and mumbled, “Mmm hmm.”

“Aw, that's a shame, Jason.” Tracy felt hurt. She stood up, thinking to herself how badly she treated him.

Jason then smiled and looked up to face her. “Sike. I don't hate you.”

Tracy then sucked her teeth and picked him up to hug him. “Boy, you gon' break a lot of hearts like that,” she said, carrying Jason into the kitchen as he laughed. “You want something to drink?” she asked, noticing for herself how cute he was.

Jason said, while bouncing, “Yeah, and some cookies, too.”

Tracy called Carl, feeling totally at ease with it. She liked their conversations.

“Hello, can I speak to Carl?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“It's Tracy.”

“Hey gorgeous. Did you take those earrings off?”

Tracy smiled and said, “I don't wear them every day.”

“Well, anyway, what are you doing this evening?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Okay, well, since you've called me now, what's your phone number?” he asked her.

Tracy gave it to him. “So are you gonna try to go to the pros?” she asked, referring to football.

Carl leveled with her and said, “I doubt it. See, most athletes dream the impossible, but at the same time, it's good to be realistic.”

Tracy contested, “Well, like they say, ‘If you think you can, you can.' But if you think you can't, then you can't. Or at least that's how I feel about it.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn't work too well when you have college politics involved. They can make you or break you up here. And players at black schools don't get nearly enough national exposure as they do at white schools.”

“Why didn't you go to a white school then?”

“My parents wanted me to learn something about my people. Plus, I've been in white schools all of my life.”

BOOK: Flyy Girl
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ads

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