Flyy Girl

by Omar Tyree

  “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.

  “Not anymore. That was just you in our way!” Raheema shut her door on Bruce’s crushed face, feeling avenged.

  Bruce got up to leave, inflamed, with pulsating nerves. He spotted Tracy heading home from school, and he calmed himself as he waited for her on the sidewalk. Tracy wore a dark-blue, velour sweat suit with red trimming running up the sides and accentuating her curves. Bruce wanted desperately to be loved by her, but Tracy tried to ignore him and walk on by.

  “Ay, you not gon’ even say ‘hi’?”

  “Hi, Bruce,” she answered blandly.

  Bruce cheered up with the sound of her voice. “That’s a nice sweat suit,” he commented, following her.

  “Thanks. My boyfriend bought it for me.”

  Bruce swallowed his rage. “Who is he?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tracy flared.

  Bruce thought about snatching her arm, but Tracy marched ahead too quickly for him to react.

  Tracy continued to her house, thinking about her situation with Timmy. He was too compulsive. She opened her door and tossed herself on the couch. Victor appeared in her daydream. She never stopped wanting him. She felt like going to the playground just to see if he was them, playing ball or hanging out.

  Tracy went to pick up her brother from the day-care center and saw Victor anyway. He stood out in the sun in a blue, terry-cloth, Fila sweat suit. A small gold V hung on a link chain around his neck, and his hair was freshly cut, as always. Yet, as usual, he was spending time with another girl.

  Tracy met his eyes, still feeling controlled by him. Victor was still her first love, but he had not spoken to her for nearly a year.

  Victor was there again, in Tracy’s eyesight view, on her way home with her brother. And his companion had left him. Once he spotted Tracy walking back with Jason, he walked over to their side of the street and sat on the hood of a red Dodge Omni, holding an unlit cigarette. He played with it in his smooth black hands, flipping it over in circles between his fingers, waiting for her as she approached him. He then smiled at her and said, “I heard you go wit’ punk-ass Timmy now.”

  “Yeah,” Tracy answered, beaming helplessly.

  Victor leaped off of the car and moved toward her. “Come here, Tracy.”

  “I can’t,” she responded. She wanted to talk to him, but could not allow her hormones to get her into trouble with Timmy, who was crazy with jealous rage.

  “So it’s like that now, hunh?” Victor asked her as she continued on her way.

  Tracy turned back to face him. “No, I just can’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Victor asked, giving her his winning smile. He simply wanted to see how much Tracy liked her new guy.

  Tracy looked him over and shook her head. “I can’t.” She then turned and took a deep breath as she continued home with her brother, happy to have spoken to Victor again.

  Victor stared at her back and muttered, “Damn. She’s still loyal to a nigga. I like that. But I could still have her if I really wanted to. I can tell by how she looks at me.”

  • • •

  “So Tracy, are you and Timmy going out this weekend?” Patti asked her daughter. They were watching Dynasty together in the living room.

  Jason interjected, “No, ’cause she gotta watch me.”

  “She
t up, boy,” Tracy told him. “I don’t know what we gon’ do, mom,” she answered.

  “Yeah, well that’s a nice suit he bought you there. And I can never get over those gigantic earrings.”

  Tracy laughed as she played with the huge earring in her ear. Patti didn’t seem to mind her having little boyfriends and going out on dates at fourteen. Why should she? She and her sisters had done it when they were young and growing up in North Philly. Patti didn’t mind her daughter wearing expensive clothing and accessories either. After all, she had always wanted her daughter to look her best. She wanted to look fabulous when she was young, too. A lot of young girls wanted to be “flyy.” It was the next best thing to being a movie star.

  Tracy said, “He was gonna buy me a big nugget ring, too, but I acted like it was ugly, and he changed his mind.”

  “Well don’t get too much into letting him buy you things, because you’ll end up in the same boat that I’m in with your father. He thinks that just because he pays the bills here, he can do what he wants to do, but I got news for his ass.”

  Here she goes again, Tracy thought. She compares everything tohim now.

  “That’s just how they are, honey,” her mother added. “They just wanna do whatever pleases them.”

  And what about us? Tracy wanted to ask. I know I want what I want,and you do too, mom. But she decided to keep her thoughts to herself as they continued to watch Dynasty’s Carrington family.

  “Mom, guess who was up here today,” she asked.

  “Bruce.”

  “How you know?”

  “I seen him in the supermarket last night with his mother, and he told me to tell you he said ‘hi.’ ”

  “Well, how come you didn’t tell me?”

  “To tell you the truth, it slipped my mind. But what are you worried about it for anyway? You don’t like the poor boy.”

  Tracy laughed. “I know, but I just like to know stuff like that.”

  “It’s a shame, how you did that boy,” Patti said, walking to the kitchen. “I should have married myself a nice little boy like him,” she mumbled.

  Tracy watched Blake arguing with Alexis. She smiled, thinking about Bruce’s childish temper. That was the only exciting thing about him, except for his money. Yet Timmy bought her more expensive things.