Flyy Girl (26 page)

“So what happened, man?” Bucky asked.

Bruce had returned from his girlfriend's house. He answered, sitting on Bucky's steps with his head down, “She said her period was on.”

Bucky laughed, straightening out his Adidas tennis outfit. “You went for that
nut
shit?”

Bruce threw up his hands. “Look, man, what was I supposed to do?”

“You should have let her know, right off the back, that you ain't no
nut,
cuz'.”

Bruce shook his head and said, “Yeah, well, it's too late for that now. Maybe it just ain't meant for me to get no ass.”

“Man, shet up. That's probably why they all think you a sucka' now.”

“Well, what we gon' do tonight?” Bruce asked, changing the subject. There had to be at least a million better things worth talking about, as far he was concerned.

Bucky tucked in his shirt. He wasn't “good-looking,” but to Bruce, Bucky had poise and style. “I don't know what 'chew doin', but I'm gon' get with this bitch later on,” he said. Then again, Bucky simply did and said what he wanted, and girls seemed to respect him for it.

“Damn, well, I might as well go to see this girl myself,” Bruce suggested.

“Yeah, you betta' do somethin'.”

Bruce left immediately. The early April night was warm and peaceful. He walked to the girl's block, where he found her standing with her slightly bow-legged girlfriend. Bruce could not help watching her friend's bow-legs for the twenty or so minutes that he spent with them.

“So what's up, Nikki?”

“Nothin'. You just decided to come around here and see me, hunh?”

“Why you say it like that?”

“Were you bored or somethin', Bruce?”

“What, I gotta be bored to come see you?”

“I'm asking you.”

Bruce looked at her girlfriend. “Damn!” he said, laughing. Nikki knew what he was talking about, but she tried to let it pass.

“Are you going to that party tonight?” she asked him.

“Naw. What party?”

“At the playground center.”

“Nope. I want to be with you tonight,” Bruce said, glancing at her girlfriend again.

Nikki had enough. She snapped, “This is Kari, since you act like you want to meet her.”

Bruce was caught, and all he could do was smile about it. “Why you say that?” he responded, still grinning.

“You know what, Bruce? You can go back home, because you don't have any respect for me.”

“Aw, now, why you gon' say that?”

Nikki ignored him. Bruce decided to leave. There was no way he could keep his mind on one girl, when he wasn't getting anything from any of them.
What the hell is the use?
he thought.

Bruce went home and sat inside of his living room. He laid back on the couch, exhausted from his thoughts of hopelessness. It was one of those Friday nights when all of his friends would get drunk. But Bruce didn't feel like being drunk; he felt like being inside of a girl. He closed his eyes, dreaming about it.

BRRRRIIIINNNG!

He answered the phone on the first ring. “Hello.”

“Hi, it's Tracy.”

“Hey, girl. What's going on?” he asked excitedly. He straightened up on the couch.

“Are you mad at me for not coming to your house?”

“Naw, I'm just happy that we're talking to each other again.”

Tracy was still his number one.

“Come up here,” she demanded.

Bruce was shocked. “When?” he asked.

“Now.”

“For real?” He thought about the suddenness of it. “You're not playing with me, are you?” he asked her.

“No, I'm serious,” she told him.

“Okay. I'll be up.”

Bruce hung up the phone, ran to his room, threw on some cologne, grabbed a couple of rubbers from out his drawer and broke out the front door. He ran up Chelten Avenue and onto Wayne. He only stopped running when he had reached the corner of Diamond Lane. He then calmed himself and rang Tracy's bell.

Tracy walked onto her front steps looking beautiful. She wore a small, pink flower in her thick, dark brown hair.

Bruce asked, “How you doin'?”

“I'm okay. You got a car ride or something?” Tracy asked, wondering how he had gotten there so fast.

Bruce lied. “Yeah, my boy dropped me off at the corner.”

“Oh,” Tracy said, looking womanly.

Bruce looked over at Raheema's door and then at Tracy. “Well, can I come in?” he decided to ask. He thought it would be embarrassing to have Raheema come out and catch him.

Tracy told him with a smile, “Come on.”

It was dark inside. A red lamp was the only thing on.

They sat on the couch, and Tracy kept her distance, staring down at her lap.

“What are you doin' that for?” Bruce quizzed.

“I don't know.”

“Where your mom at?”

“She went out.”

Bruce wanted to make a move immediately, but Tracy gave him no hints. If he wanted to
get it,
she would make him come after
it.

Bruce started to harden, thinking about the possibilities. He moved closer to her and attempted to feel on her breasts. Tracy didn't stop him. She wanted him to do more, but Bruce stopped in fear that she
might
stop him.

“Can I get something to drink?” he asked, standing up momentarily. He didn't know what to do with himself.

Tracy got up to get him some lemonade, thinking of how inexperienced Bruce was acting. He drank it down as if he was ready to die from thirst again. Tracy took the cup back to the kitchen. Bruce then told himself that he wouldn't procrastinate, and that he would go for it.
Now!

Tracy came back from the kitchen, and Bruce gently caressed and kissed her as she responded positively toward it. Bruce then leaned up and went for her pants zipper, but Tracy stopped him.

“Hold up, my mom might be coming,” she lied, hearing a car pulling up outside. Patti wasn't due to be home until late. It was only nine forty-five, and Jason had been knocked out and in dreamland an
hour earlier. Tracy had made sure to exhaust him earlier that day so she could have the nighttime all to herself.

Bruce got scared and leaped off of her.

Tracy walked to the door, holding in her laugh. She looked through the shades. “Nope. I was wrong.”

Bruce held her up against the door and tried to kiss her again. Tracy turned her head from him to avoid it. Bruce kissed her neck instead.

“Stop, Bruce.”

“So what we gon' do then?”

“All right, I'll
do it
with you. God!” she snapped at him.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, no longer believing anything that she said.

“Yeah, just let me go.”

Bruce let her go, feeling victorious.

Tracy walked away from him and sat on the couch. “Why we gotta
do it?”
she whined.

Bruce sighed. He shook his head disappointedly. “I bet Victor ain't have to go through this shit!”

“Fuck him!” Tracy hollered in response. She walked over by the stairs.

Bruce said, “Look, I'm gettin' out of here, 'cause you ain't doin' nothin' but playin' with me.” He grabbed his jacket and bolted for the door.

Tracy yelled, “Where you goin', Bruce?”

“I'm goin' the fuck home! Where you think I'm goin'?”

“NO!”

“Well, why you call me up here if you didn't wanna do nothin'?”

“Because, I wanted to talk to you.”

“When I get home, I'll call you up then.”

“I SAID, ‘NO,' BOY!” Tracy hollered at him again.

“What we gon' do then, Tracy?”

Tracy looked away and sighed. She then walked over to the bottom of the stairs. “Get your stuff and come up to my bedroom,” she told him.

Bruce struggled to keep his composure. He headed up the stairs,
walking up first and feeling aroused. Tracy followed him sluggishly. Bruce got to her all-pink room in the dark. Tracy stood in the doorway behind him.

“Well, come on,” Bruce turned and said.

Tracy shied away from him. “I'on wanna
do it
with
you,”
she whined, still playing games.

Bruce was about to go out of his mind, but he figured he was too close to lose. “Aw naw, that's it,” he said, grabbing at her pants.

Tracy fought him. “Get off of me. I'll do it,” she said, peeling his hands from her jeans.

Bruce frowned. “Come on, girl, stop playing with me,” he said as if he was about to cry.

Tracy started to laugh. She loved Bruce's temper. “You get on my
nerves,
boy,” she said, finally taking off her pants.

Bruce's heart beat wildly as he began to strip. Tracy became the first girl that he saw butt-naked in his life, except for the time when he walked in on his cousin taking an afternoon shower.

Bruce tried to lay Tracy's smooth honey-brown body on the bed, underneath his chestnut-brown frame.

Tracy stopped him. “No, Bruce.”

“What 'chew mean, ‘no'?” he asked, confused.

“I wanna
do it
on the floor.”

Bruce cracked a colossal smile. He was in heaven. Everything Tracy said added to his excitement.

She stretched a blanket out on the floor, spread her legs and raised her knees up high, like she had done for Victor, more than a dozen times.

She whined, “Hurry up, Bruce. It's cold.”

Bruce climbed overtop of her and tried to enter, but he could not find the right place.

“No, what are you trying to do?” Tracy asked.

“It's too dark in here. I can't see,” Bruce said, making excuses. He tried again and failed, falling on top of her and breathing like he had done something.

Tracy asked, “What's wrong?”

Bruce laughed it off. “I don't believe this.”

“What?”

“I ain't even hard no more.”

Tracy sucked her teeth. “Well, get off of me then.”

“Naw,” Bruce responded. “But see, if you wasn't playin' with me, this wouldn't have happened,” he said, making up more excuses for his inexperience. They lay there for a while, doing nothing. Bruce then tried to make himself erect by rubbing himself against her leg.

“Help me, Tracy,” he whined.

Tracy was repulsed. “NO! I'm not touching
it.”

Bruce sat up, playing with himself to become erect again. “Come on, help me,” he begged Tracy.

Tracy grabbed at him and moved her hand back and forth. Bruce began to suck her breasts. Tracy then ran her fingers over his back, and he was
up
like a ladder.

“Put it in,” he told her. Tracy did it with ease, making Bruce feel stupid that he could not do it. He leveled himself on top of her and started to move around in circles, not really knowing what he was doing. He didn't
feel
anything
special. Sex
was overrated.

Tracy felt nothing either. It wasn't like when Victor
did it
to her. Bruce did not have any of Victor's experience.

After a few minutes of feeling nothing, Tracy tried to push him off of her, but Bruce tightened his grip on her body. He continued to do what was meaningless, squirming around in circles and finally tired himself out.

Tracy shoved him away and sat up to think,
This boy ain't know
what the hell he was doin'.
She figured she had given him a fair shot, and Bruce had grossly disappointed her.

“Put your clothes on,” she demanded, slipping on her own.

Bruce refused. “Naw. I want to see what I got with your light on,” he said, smiling and feeling proud of himself.

Tracy slid on a long, baby-blue nightshirt, refusing to show Bruce her naked body in the light. He then pulled his clothes back on in defeat.

Tracy walked to the top of her steps and froze. “Oh my God! Bruce,
it's my mom!” she said hysterically. Patti had come home earlier than expected. “Hurry up and hide in the closet.” She forced Bruce in before he even had a chance to think. He fell in over all her shoes and under her clothing, which dangled over his head.

Tracy frantically straightened up the room and sprayed air freshener. Patti walked into the house and headed straight for Tracy's room, knowing that she wasn't asleep yet. It was a quarter of eleven on a Friday night.

Bruce was crunched and scared, listening in the closet.

“Well, how was it, mom?” Tracy asked. She really wanted to ask why she was back home so early, but she didn't want her mother to get suspicious.

“It was nice and all. Was Jason all right?” Patti didn't suspect anything.

“Yeah, he went to sleep like eight-thirty,” Tracy told her.

Patti looked surprised. “He did?”

“Yup.”

“Well, he must have been rippin' and runnin' all day, hunh?”

Bruce's long legs tightened in the closet, feeling severely cramped.

“Mom, I need some new jeans,” Tracy was saying.

“I just bought you two pair.”

Bruce was praying that her mother didn't walk over to check out her closet.

“Yeah, but I wanted some black ones, 'cause my other ones are too small now.”

Tracy had enough clothes, which were beating Bruce up in the closet.
This girl is spoiled as shit,
he thought.
I pay for my own gear.

Patti finally left for bed after what Bruce thought was eternity. Tracy then snuck downstairs to open the front door. Bruce was dying in the closet, balled up like a snail, when she made it back up to get him.

As she opened the closet door, Tracy whispered, “Come on.”

Bruce struggled to his feet while Tracy hurried him down the stairs. Bruce then fell out on to her lawn, stretching out his legs on the grass.