Flyy Girl (23 page)

Bruce turned and noticed her. “I'm 'bout to punch that girl in her head, man,” he said in a low tone. Bucky laughed. His rough demeanor was slowly but surely beginning to rub off on Bruce. They had only been close friends for a little more than a year.

“You wanna dance?” Bruce turned to ask a cute, brown-skinned girl with long hair and long eyelashes. She was a beauty, with a face fit for the cover of a youth magazine.

“I don't care,” she answered him, smiling like she liked him. “What's your name?” she asked, as their bodies met.

“Bruce.”

“You live around here?”

“Naw, I live down the hill.”

“Oh. Well, what are you doin' after the party?”

“I'on know. Why?” Bruce asked, hoping for sex.

“I'm going to my girlfriend's house afterward, and her mom's in Atlantic City. So we lookin' for something to do.”

Bruce smiled, not believing his ears. It must have been his lucky night. He was already glad he had decided to come to the party instead of sitting out with Raheema on her steps all night.

“Oh, so you want me to come with you?” he asked the girl.

“Yeah, if you want to,” she said, still staring. “Oh, my name is Stacy.”

Bruce took her to the wall. He was getting rock hard under his jeans.
I might have a chance to finally get some ass,
he told himself.

A voice slipped into his ear from behind, “Yo, what's up, Bruce?” Bruce turned and spotted Victor Hinson, who was attempting to press a girl up against the wall himself. It was a sign of the times for teenagers to get what they called “exotic” at parties.

Bruce shook Victor's gold-ringed black hand, and smiled.

Stacy then spoke to his attractive dance partner. “Marsha? What time are we leaving?”

Marsha responded, referring to Stacy
and
Bruce, “Whenever
y'all
ready.”

Stacy's girlfriend was as good-looking as she was.
Birds of a feather
flock together,
Bruce told himself with a grin.

Smiling with shiny white teeth, Victor said, “Bruce,
we're
goin' to their crib.” Bruce was well informed about Victor's reputation. He definitely felt he would score if Victor was with him. Victor Hinson was
the man!

Interjecting, Tracy's girlfriend Carmen howled, “Ay Stacy, don't talk to him. He got a girlfriend.”

Bruce turned to his left, nervously, thinking that he had been busted. Tracy was laughing in the background.

Victor pushed Carmen away and said, “Don't believe that shit, Stacy. Bruce is my cousin. She just mad 'cause he didn't wanna talk to her.”

Bruce was impressed with Victor's quick tongue. He was like lightning with his game. And his reputation was well deserved.

“Oh, I wasn't worried about that,” Stacy responded.

“Ay Bruce, come here,” Jantel said, tapping him on his shoulder. She whispered, “Raheema wants to see you,” while giving Stacy an evil eye. She and Raheema had become good friends, since Tracy was hanging out more with Carmen.

Bruce frowned. “For what?”

“Because she wants to see you,” Jantel said, as though it was obvious.

“But I was just with her,” Bruce whined, not willing to leave the party.

“All right then. I'll just tell her that you were
busy,
” Jantel warned.

Bruce sighed and looked back to Stacy. “Ay, I'll be right back. All right?” he told her.

“Okay,” Stacy said loyally.

Bruce moved through the crowds as Tracy kept an eye on his every move.

“What did you say to him?” she asked her estranged girlfriend, Jantel.

“I told him that Raheema wanted to see him,” Jantel told her.

“She does?”

“Yeah.”

Tracy then thought about their friendship. “Do you still like her?” she asked of Raheema with a grimace.

“Yes, I do, Tracy,” Jantel huffed. “Do you still like Carmen?” she asked back.

Tracy sucked her teeth and was speechless. Jantel then walked off to do her own thing, since Tracy had new interests.

From out of nowhere, Bucky grabbed Bruce's arm before he had made it to the back door. “Where you goin', man?
^”

“I'll be right back, cuz'.”

Bucky scowled at him. “Man, don't—” He then stopped himself in mid-sentence, realizing that he would be wasting his breath. “Fuck it,” he said to his friend scornfully. “You're gonna do what you want to do anyway.”

Bruce left the party and walked back around to Diamond Lane, where he found Raheema waiting for him on her steps. He sat down next to her, began to talk and quickly forgot all about the party. And when Raheema was ready to go back inside, he tried to kiss her once more before they said their good-byes, only to have her turn him down again. By that time it was after eleven o'clock. Bruce darted back to the party.

Tracy smirked at Bruce's arrival. “That's why they left you,” she said, teasing.

Bruce ignored her. “Where did Vic and them girls go?” he asked Bucky.

“Oh, they were lookin' for you, but you had left.”

“Well, how come you didn't tell them where I was?”

Bucky grimaced. “Man, you ain't tell me where you was goin'.”

Bruce ran from the party to find out where Victor and the girls had gone. Block after block, he desperately gave people their descriptions, and no one seemed to know where they were.

Bruce was pressed for sex. He walked home, brokenhearted again and pissed at his brainless decisions. If he would have listened to Bucky and left Raheema alone, he could have
scored.

Bruce ventured to Raheema's house early that Saturday morning. Raheema was out on her steps at first, but once she spotted Bruce approaching in a pair of tan Timberland shoes, black jeans, a brown leather jacket and brown Gucci glasses, she ran back into the house, considering herself not dressed well enough to be with him.

Tracy sat out on her own steps and laughed at Raheema's silliness. She smiled at Bruce, but he turned away.

“Uuw, Bruce, can I see your glasses?” Tracy squealed, reaching out her hands as if he had told her that she could.

“Naw,” Bruce responded, slapping Tracy's hands away.

Tracy dropped her eyes, pretending to be hurt by it. “You so mean to me,” she whined.

Raheema exploded out of her house, screaming, “Why don't you leave him alone, Tracy!”

Tracy laughed it off. She figured she would wear Bruce down eventually. The challenge made it more fun, and Raheema surely would not be able to keep him long. Every boy had his needs, and Raheema was not willing to meet any of them.

Tracy went in and got her brother. She then took Jason for a walk to the corner to get away from her neighbor and her handsome but pitiful boyfriend.

Bruce got bold and walked up to Raheema's door, suspecting that no one was home. He knew what kind of cars her parents drove, and neither of them were parked out in front of the house.

“Who's home, Raheema?”

“Nobody,” she told him, happy to be home alone.

Bruce opened the door to walk in, and Raheema slammed his hand to stop him.

“You can't come in my house, boy! I don't know what
your
problem is!” she yelled at him.

Bruce embarrassingly laughed it off. “Your pop must really got you uptight, hunh?”

“No,
I just don't
want
you in my house. That's all.”

Bruce felt like a nitwit. Raheema had pulled his last straw, and he had no energy left to deal with her. He needed an excuse to get away. “Well, I gotta go shopping with my mom today,” he lied to her, while backing down the steps. “I'll see you.”

“Leave
if you want to, boy. I don't care,” Raheema hissed at him.

“Now why you gon' get like that, Raheema?” Bruce pleaded to her.
“We've been goin' with each other for over a month now, and you won't even kiss me.”

Raheema refused to let her defenses down. She gave Bruce an evil stare and slammed her door in his face. She wanted badly for him to stay, but she did not know how to control her emotions. How was she supposed to feel toward a boy? And how could she keep him interested without kissing him, letting him tell her what to do, and then ultimately being
used
by him?

That's it!
Bruce snapped to himself. He was tired of playing Mr. Niceguy with Raheema and getting no results. He planned on going after the primary prize: sex with Tracy. Bucky was right;
later for love.

Bruce was too angry to feel nervous about approaching Tracy. She was still
flyy,
but he had gotten used to her, and he was no longer timid around her. He quickly met up with Tracy at the corner and stopped to talk.

“Tracy, I know I've been mean with you, but me and Raheema are finished, and she's the only reason I was acting like that,” he said.

Tracy wanted to smile, but she kept a straight face. “Well, I don't really want to talk to no boys right now. I mean, I just wanted to be
friends
with you,” she lied with a straight face.

Bruce looked bewildered. He was too mentally drained and psychologically frustrated to even respond. Tracy only wanted him when he was connected to Raheema, like some kind of a silly competition. He frowned, realizing it, and walked away in a state of depression.

Tracy felt sorry for the boy.
He's just gonna have to get smarter with
girls,
she told herself.
Nobody likes a pushover.

Bruce mumbled as he walked down the street with his head hanging low, “I'm a damn fool.”

Bruce asked Victor about Tracy when they saw each other in school. Victor said, “Man, I was runnin' up in her all summer long. That young-buck was addicted to
my
shit. I got them panties whenever I wanted to.”

Bruce was weak with jealousy. He thought that he would never be a
lady's man. He turned them off with his niceness. He only dreamed that he could be like Victor one day.

Tracy continued to haunt Bruce's thoughts, with her glamour, her self-assurance and her sensuality. Bruce longed through November and into December, fantasizing that he would get another chance.

“Hey, dad! You bring my Christmas money with you?” Tracy asked, running down the stairs.

“Damn, girl, let me settle down first,” her father responded to her. Dave had grown a smooth mustache and a beard, looking closer to his age than what he did previously with his hairless babyface.

“Aw'ight, just as long as you know what time it is,” Tracy told him with a grin.

Dave strolled over toward the couch as Tracy's brother ran and jumped on his legs. He then dragged his son along with him as Jason clung tightly to his thigh, giggling with glee. Their father then sat on the couch with him as Tracy joined them.

“So how you doin' in school?” her father asked her.

“I'm doin' all right. High school ain't even as hard as I thought it would be.”

“Well, why would you think that
that
high school was hard?” Dave asked, referring to their neighborhood Germantown High School.

“Because, everybody talked about high school,
in general,
like it was supposed to be a big change or somethin'.”

“Well, it's more of a social change than an academic change, unless you would've gone to Central or Girl's High, like
we
wanted,” Dave alluded.

Tracy sighed, tired of hearing about “those nerd schools.”

Her father warned her sternly, “Now you make sure you stay away from them drugs, stay in school, and don't get pregnant.”

Tracy brushed his comments off with a laugh.

“I'm serious, girl,” her father told her.

“I'm not taking no drugs, dad. And I like to dress too much to miss school. Then I can show off my clothes and stuff.”

Dave smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Shet up, dad,” Tracy said, playfully slapping his shoulder.

“What about these young guys your mother told me been calling you? You got a boyfriend yet?”

Tracy giggled, embarrassed. “Mom ain't tell you that. 'Cause I don't have any
boyfriends.
”

Dave grinned. “Why not?”

“All the good ones are taken.”

“Aw, here we go with that stuff,” her father commented with a smirk.

Tracy smiled. “What?”

“You girls always talkin' 'bout
the good ones get away.
And most of the time, what you consider a ‘good guy' is really a bad guy. And you probably got a
real
‘good guy' out there that's dying to be your little boyfriend.”

“No it ain't. They be goof-balls. I want a
decent
guy.”

“See, that's exactly what I'm talkin' about.”

Tracy looked at herself in the diamond-shaped mirrors on their living-room wall. “I mean, dad, I am too
fine
to get some regular guy. I feel that I deserve the best guy I can get.”

Dave smiled, proud of his handsome genes. “I see. You're thinking just like your mother used to think,” he commented while wrestling with his son.

Tracy paused for a second. She looked toward the top of the stairs, wondering what her mother was doing. She had to know that Dave was home, with all of the commotion that they had made.
Mom's probably
refusing to see him,
she thought to herself.

“Did you tell mom that you were coming?” she asked her father.

Dave didn't respond to her, as he was too busy playing with Jason. “What did you say?”

Tracy was not sure if it was her place to comment on their relationship.
But he's asking about mine,
she told herself. “I said, ‘Did you tell mom that you were coming?' ” she forced herself to ask again.