Flyy Girl (28 page)

Tracy pushed him away silently.

Timmy chuckled and said, “Oh, not in school, hunh?”

Tracy tried her damndest not to smile.
I don't believe he's just gonna
walk up and be all nice now,
she mused.

“Well, you gon' call me tonight, ain't you, Tracy?” he asked her.

Tracy faced him, noticing his freshly cut, rusty-brown hair. “So you can tell me off again?” she asked.

“Naw, so I can tell you what time I'm gon' pick you up for the movies this weekend.”

Tracy cracked a smile. Timmy had caught her off guard. He had nerve, but he was definitely exciting and unpredictable. He was a major change from Bruce.

“So, we goin' to the movies, hunh?” she asked.

“Yeah, on Friday night.”

“What we gon' go see?”

“Nightmare on Elm Street: Part Three,
or four or five; one of them ma-fuckas. I forgot which one they up to now.”

Tracy laughed. She could not help it. Timmy was funny, too. “Well, what time you plan on goin'?” she asked, losing her apprehension for him.

“Like seven o'clock, but I'll let you know though.”

“So you gon' pay my way?” she asked with a child's grin.

Timmy grinned back. “Yeah, but don't get excited about it, 'cause I ain't no rich nigga. I work hard for my shit.”

“I heard,” Tracy mumbled under her breath as Timmy walked off.

Friday night came quickly. Tracy wore a navy blue silk outfit, draped with her gold. She met Timmy out on Chelten Avenue to catch the bus. Timmy was impressed by her knock-out style. He was proud enough to make her his girl.

They walked through the Cheltenham Mall, and many jealous teenaged boys were staring. Green-eyed Timmy had another young star on his arm.

Timmy ordered and paid for everything. Tracy felt like a woman.

They took a seat in the theater, and Timmy promptly wrapped his arm around her. He grabbed her tightly when the scary parts came and
gently during the love scenes. He made Tracy feel secure. He never left her side to get popcorn or anything. And she enjoyed his company.

After the movie, Timmy walked her to get ice cream while holding her hand, and Tracy wanted him to finish the job. He had proved himself worthy of her. He had class, and he made her feel good, so she wanted to repay him for it with good lovemaking. Yet Timmy had other thoughts in mind. He didn't have anywhere to take her at the time anyway.

They rode the buses back to Tracy's house, and he was anxious to leave her.

“You not even gon' kiss me good night?” she complained, standing at her door.

“No, but I do have something to say to you though.”

“What?”

“From now on, you're my girl. Aw'ight?”

“Oh, you just gon' tell me, hunh?”

Timmy raised his brow. “What, you don't wanna be?”

Tracy responded quickly, “I ain't say that.” She didn't want Timmy to blow up and tell her off again. He seemed to have a serious temper problem. And his temper was not childishly entertaining like Bruce's. Timmy's tantrums were of a more violent nature.

Timmy was devious, proud and bold, spending money like a windmill blows wind. Tracy was weak for adventure, a fiend for fashion and a money hawk.

He took her downtown to the Market Street Gallery and to Chestnut Street that Saturday afternoon, where he bought her huge, triangle-shaped gold earrings with
Tracy
etched in gold across the middle. He bought her leather pants with matching pocketbooks. He then charmed Patti into liking him with his greens when they had arrived back at Tracy's house. Tracy lied to her mother about where Timmy's finances came from, and together they were a match of teenagers headed for no good.

•    •    •

“Dag, girl, Timmy sure is spending a whole lot of money on you,” Carmen said, sitting out on Tracy's front steps. She could not seem to take her eyes off of Tracy's new earrings.

“I know, but I'm scared to tell him to stop,” Tracy commented.

Carmen frowned at her, confused. “Why would you tell him to stop?” she asked.
I wish he was my man,
she thought to herself.
I could
use a bunch of new gear in my empty-ass closets!

“He's buying
too
much stuff for me,” Tracy told her, “like he
owns
me or something. That shit scares me.”

“Where does he get the money from?”

Tracy grinned. “Stealin'.”

Carmen had already heard; she just wanted to see if Tracy knew. “Yeah, that's what people told me,” she said, smiling back at Tracy. “And if he's stealin' stuff, then that means that people are gonna be after him.”

Tracy nodded. “Yeah, I know. That's why I make sure that everything he gives me is new.”

“You better make sure,” Carmen warned her.

They both watched as Tracy's neighbor, Raheema, approached her house, walking home late from school.

“Y'all still don't talk to each other?” Carmen asked.

Tracy shook her head, standing up to greet Raheema. Their displeasure with one another had gone far enough, and Bruce was no longer in the picture as far as Tracy was concerned.

“I'm about to make up with her, because we were only fighting over Bruce, and I don't talk to him no more,” she answered.

Raheema did not appear to look in Tracy's direction as she headed up the walkway.

“Raheema, can I talk to you for a second?”

Raheema stopped and waited for Tracy without a word.

“Are you still mad at me about Bruce?”

“Why should I be?” Raheema knew that Tracy had been using
Bruce for free clothing and things.
But that was Bruce's dumb fault,
she figured.

“Well, because he had liked you.”

Raheema was mute again. She did miss Bruce's company for a while. Nevertheless, life goes on.

“I was mad at first, Tracy, because you just had to have him, when there's a whole lot of other guys that you could have talked to. But I can't say that it's all your fault, because he did try to talk to you.”

“Yeah, because I didn't tell you about the time when he asked to come in my house,” Tracy alluded.

“Yup,” Carmen added. “Y'all should never fight over a boy, because most boys will
do it
to anything that moves.”

Raheema looked at Carmen and smirked.
You too,
she felt like saying. “Well, I'm no longer mad at you, Tracy,” she said to her next-door neighbor instead.

Tracy opened her arms to hug her and Raheema obliged.

“Awww, now ain't that sweet,” Carmen perked.

The girls shared a smile before Raheema excused herself and walked into the house.

“I'm goin' over Timmy's house tonight,” Tracy suddenly announced. She felt joyful after making up with her neighbor.

“Oh, so y'all gon' do ‘the nasty,' tonight. Hunh?” Carmen assumed.

Tracy smiled bashfully. “I'on know. He don't even touch me.”

“Yeah, well, he gon'
touch you
tonight.”

They giggled together before it was time for Tracy to leave for track practice. Patti began picking Jason up from day-care when Tracy went to practice. She didn't mind it much, as long as her daughter was doing something constructive.

Timmy waited until eight o'clock to pick Tracy up. They walked to his house, five blocks from hers, down dark and windy row-house streets. Once at his house, they went in and up to a stuffy dark room that Timmy tried, hopelessly, to straighten up. He then got a couple of
strawberry coolers and poured them into two tall glasses. Tracy had never drunk before, but she was not planning on telling Timmy “no” at such a romantic point in their relationship. Timmy had been able to make all of his girlfriends feel as if they had known him for years when they barely knew him at all. He gave them all a perfect illusion of comfort.

“Don't drink it so fast,” he told her, as Tracy rushed to finish her tall glass. She stood up and wobbled, before Timmy grabbed her.

“Look at you, girl. And that was only one cooler.”

“I ain't never drank one before,” she said, falling back.

Timmy laid her out on his bed and examined her for a moment. “That's because you drank it too fast,” he told her. “You acted like you was drinkin' a damn soda.”

Tracy giggled at him. “You know, you haven't kissed me since we been goin' together,” she said, out of the blue, with her head stuck to the pillow.

Timmy leaned over and kissed her, weakly.

“Oh, you call 'lat a kiz?” she asked, slurring her speech.

Timmy laughed. “Girl, you drunk as hell.”

“Well, you did 'dis to me, boy.”

Timmy x-rayed her curvaceous body. Tracy was wearing a long yellow skirt with a white silk blouse, laced with gold. But something was missing.

“Where my earrings?” Timmy fumed.

Tracy slurred, with heavy drunk eyes, “In my criiib, Tim-e-e-e. Wh-i-i-i?”

“Why you ain't wear 'em?”

“Cuzzz, it wuz too loud ta' wear wit' 'dis.”

Timmy gripped her tightly by the arm. “When I buy you somethin', I expect you to wear it.”

“O-kay,” Tracy said, jerking away from him.

Timmy looked at her, from head to toe, trying to decide what he wanted to do with her. “You wanna make love?” he asked.

“I'on have no choice. I know you want some. 'Dat's why you got me all drunk and shit. I ain't stupid, boy.”

Timmy giggled. “Yeah, but you fucked up, I know 'dat.”

He sat down beside her and ran his hands over her breasts. Tracy struggled to turn herself over, feeling good.

Timmy asked, “What 'chew doin'?”

“Button down my blouse,” Tracy told him.

He did, along with unfastening her bra.

“Take off my skirt.”

Timmy did that as well, as Tracy lifted up her legs. He then stood up, shut his door and began taking off his clothes. He pulled the covers back when he was fully undressed and climbed in with her as their naked bodies met under the sheets.

Tracy kissed up and down his chest, and Timmy responded with a long wet kiss on her lips. In no time at all, Tracy was stimulated. She pulled Timmy's body on top of hers and grabbed his private parts to do the honor herself. Timmy was shocked by her assertiveness, as he held her firmly by the waist.

Tracy squirmed, enjoying it. She ran her hands up and down Timmy's smooth spine as he breathed heavy in her ear while uttering undistinguishable expressions of bliss. Tracy's snug fit made the sex more desirable.

“Oh, girl!” Timmy squealed, increasing his speed and losing control of himself. His hands ran through Tracy's hair and all over the bed as he tried, desperately, to grab ahold of something. Tracy squeezed him even tighter as she felt his body becoming rigid and tense. Timmy's last attempt to calm himself was unsuccessful. He began to vibrantly kick his legs and beat his hands against the pillow, as he pushed his naked, perspiring body as close as it could get to hers. All the while, Tracy continued to caress him roughly.

Timmy had done it
right,
as he inhaled and exhaled deeply to regain his energy. His eyes rolled up toward the ceiling, and the cool breeze chilled them, blowing in from his open window.

“That was good as shit,” he told her.

Tracy smiled and leaned over to kiss his pinkish lips.

•    •    •

“Ay Timmy, did you get it yet?” his golden-brown friend asked, sitting at the lunch tables again.

“Get what?”

“Your girl, cuz'.”

“Oh, yeah, I got it Friday night. I thought you was talkin' about something else.”

“Naw.”

Timmy leaned over the lunch-room table to whisper in his ear. “Yo, man, she had the best ass I ever had in my life.”

Golden-brown smiled. “She did?”

“Cuz', no bull-shit.”

“She do look like she got some good shit though.”

Timmy snapped, “Ay, man, what the fuck is wrong wit' 'chew? Don't talk about my girl like that. And don't be lookin' at her that hard either!”

“Damn, cuz'. My fault.”

“Yeah, but don't let that shit happen again!”

Timmy left the lunch room pissed at everyone for his friend's slip of tongue. He howled at Tracy at her locker. “Where the fuck was you at last night?”

Tracy was puzzled. “I was at my next-door neighbor's house,” she answered, surprised by his rashness.

“Doin' what?”

“Talking to my girlfriend. She lives there.”

Timmy looked her in her eyes, as if he wanted to reprimand her. “If I find out you wasn't there, I'm gon' break your neck.”

Tracy was confused and frightened. Unlike Bruce, slie suspected that Timmy would do what he said.
What the hell is he pissed off about
now?
she asked herself. Timmy seemed to be always on the verge of an explosion.

“Ay, what's up, Ra-Ra?” Bruce asked, on the way to Tracy's house.

“What are you speaking to me for? I thought you liked Tracy?” Raheema asked him sourly.

Bruce decided not to respond to her while taking a seat on Tracy's steps.

Raheema stared at his back, standing inside of her doorway. “She got a new boyfriend now anyway,” she added vengefully.

Bruce faced her with his eyes flaring in shock. “How long she been goin' with him?”

“Ask her. It's none of my business to tell.”

“Well, you told me that she had one.”

“She would have
wanted
me to do that.”

Bruce was puzzled.
How come she didn't tell me then?
he thought to himself.
Then again, maybe Raheema's lying to get back at me.
“I thought y'all was enemies,” he quizzed.