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Authors: Omar Tyree

BOOK: Flyy Girl
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“Hello . . . Kevin,” she whispered on the phone.

“Yo, it's me. What's up, girl?” he answered, watching the late-night
Benny Hill Show.
“Ay, tomorrow there's no school. Can't talk to me regular?”

“Unt unh. I'm still supposed to be in bed, even if we do have off from school tomorrow,” Mercedes told him.

“Dag, that's messed up.”

“Ain't it though? That's why I hate my father.”

“What 'chew gon' do tomorrow?” Kevin asked her.

“I don't know. Why?” Mercedes quizzed, having a good idea of what was coming next.

“You wanna come see me tomorrow?”

“I don't care,” she whispered.

Kevin then fell silent as he thought of a fantastic idea. “Do you have any dogs in your driveway?” he asked her.

“No,” Mercedes whispered.

“Are you still dressed?”

“Unt unh.”

“How long would it take you to get dressed?”

Mercedes grimaced. “Why?”

“ 'Cause, you could sneak around to my basement through the driveway,
if
you're not scared to.”

“I'm not scared,” Mercedes told him. She felt sneaky excitement, like an actor in a spy movie. The enemy was her father.

“Well, are you down or what?” Kevin challenged her.

Mercedes thought about it.
Just do it, girl. Say, Yeah,
she told herself. “Yeah, I'm coming. Give me like twenty minutes.”

“For real, you comin'?” Kevin asked her. He was surprised. He was just trying his luck. He didn't really think that she would sneak over to his house at night.

“Yeah, I'm serious,” Mercedes assured him.

Kevin cracked a broad smile. “Aw'ight then. I'm gon' open the back door for you.”

Mercedes hung up the phone. She tiptoed back to her room, put on some loose jogging pants with her white uniform blouse and a jacket. She walked into the bathroom and flushed the toilet to muffle her escape. She then snuck down into her basement and out of the door, making sure she kept it cracked so she could re-enter. She sprinted around back, filled with elation, and got to Kevin's. Kevin was at his door, grinning like a cartoon cat, awaiting her arrival.

“I thought you was jokin',” he whispered.

“Nope, I told you I was coming,” Mercedes said.

Kevin's baseball cap was off, and for the first time Mercedes could glimpse his hair.

“You got a nice haircut,” she commented. “Why you wear your hat all the time?”

“I take it off in school, but when I'm out on the street, I always wear a hat. I'on know why, it's just my thing. I like hats.”

“Oh,” Mercedes responded, forcing herself not to seem nervous.
Oh
my God, I'm in his house!
she panicked. She noticed that Kevin looked even better with his hat off. He was a handsome teenager, wearing a high fade haircut with a long part on the left side.

Kevin walked over to her and unzipped her jacket. Mercedes didn't move to stop him like she wanted. “What, 'chew
scared
or something?” he asked, sensing her tension.

“No I ain't,” she lied to him as he rubbed his hand up her lower back.

Mercedes was a well-developed thirteen. She got her pert body from her mother.

Kevin began to caress her breasts through her uniform blouse and leaned over to kiss her. But Mercedes didn't know
how
to kiss. She puckered her lips to his as she thought it was supposed to be done. Kevin then moved her toward the couch.

Mercedes rubbed up and down his back as Kevin ran his fingers through her smooth, long hair. He then unbuttoned her shirt, unclipped her bra and began to kiss her nipples.

Mercedes was quickly aroused. Kevin dropped to the floor on his knees and pulled down her clothes. Mercedes then went for his shirt, to undress him. Kevin, stripped naked, laid overtop of her in a push-up position. He struggled to guide himself
in.

Mercedes whispered, “It hurts, Kevin.” She moaned, quietly, as her nails began to scrape his back. And then it felt good to her, the friction and the increased energy. Her body loosened and folded in on Kevin as she squeezed him.

“Do it feel good?” he asked her, breathlessly. He made note to be as gentle as he could with her. He knew that Mercedes was a virgin. She had never had a boy even kiss her before him.

“Yeeeahh,” she moaned.

Kevin increased his speed, beginning to lose control. He flexed and
sucked in air as his body jerked uncontrollably. Then suddenly he pulled himself from her and grabbed the towel that he had set on the floor alongside the couch.

Mercedes watched him as he strained and breathed, crazily. And she was upset that he had stopped.

“Why you do that?” she asked him.

Kevin looked at her, confused. “You don't wanna get pregnant, do you?” he asked her with a frown.

Mercedes shook her head as he climbed back on the couch with her. “No,” she told him.

“Well, I had to pull out. I ain't go no rubbers.”

“Oh,” Mercedes responded, realizing she had a lot to learn about sex.

“That was good as shit though,” Kevin told her. Mercedes began to smile as he cuddled her. She leaned up and kissed his pretty brown face, sparkling inside and planning on
“doing it”
with Kevin again, and as much as possible.

“Mommy, why do I have to go over Mr. Keith's house?” Tracy pouted.

“Because I'm going out.”

“Aw, you don't want me to go?”

“No, because it's Friday, and I'm
not
coming home
no time soon.
All you're gonna do is mess up my date and fall asleep,” Patti said, grabbing her purse.

“No I'm not, mom. I promise. Ple-e-ease,” Tracy pleaded.

“No! Get your jacket and bag. I am
not
taking you with me,” her mother persisted.

“Aw, see, I was gonna be good, too,” Tracy said with a long face.

Patti chuckled. “You're a trip, girl.”

They walked next door, hand in hand.

“Beth, I'm gonna let her spend the night, because I don't know how long I'm going to be out, and she's only gonna mess up my date. Is it okay?” Patti asked.

“Sure,” Beth told her. “We're not going anywhere. I haven't been out, except for the movies, in a long time,” Beth said with a grin.

“Well, girl, you better do
something
before you start to rust in here.”

Tracy ran up the steps to play in Raheema's room.

“What are you doing here?” Raheema asked her.

“My mom said I could spend the night.”

“She did? Y-a-a-a-y! We can play all night then,” Raheema cheered.

“No we can't, 'cause Mr. Keith gon' make us go to bed,” Tracy argued.

Raheema piped down. “I know. But we can play when he thinks we're sleeping,” she plotted.

“Where your sister at?” Tracy asked her.

“In her room, sleeping.”

They went into Mercedes' room. Mercedes was stretched out. She reminded Tracy of Snow White. Tracy decided that maybe Mercedes had been dreaming about boys and needed a kiss to wake her.

Tracy looked into Mercedes' face. It was expressionless. Mercedes did not toss and turn, make noises or anything. Her hands were firmly grasped around her pillow, as if she had fallen asleep thinking of holding someone.

The two little ones left and went back to Raheema's room.

“She pro'bly dreamin' 'bout a boy,” Tracy said.

“Yeah, that ugly boy who was out there talking to her,” Raheema responded.

“No, it's not
him,
Ra-Ra. Mercedes don't like
him.”

“Well, that's the only boy she talks to.”

“You
don't know, Ra-Ra, 'cause you don't see who she knows in school.”

“So, she probably don't talk to nobody in school.”

“Shet up, 'cause you don't know nothin'.
You
still a baby,” Tracy snapped.

“I'm older than
you.
My birthday is before yours.
Now!”
Raheema retorted.

“So, Ra-Ra, you still
act
like a baby.”

The two faced off, and neither would back down.

“You can't
beat
this baby,” Raheema challenged.

“You wanna bet?”

Tracy slapped Raheema in the face. Raheema tripped on her toys and bumped her head on her low-leveled bedpost. She immediately screamed out in pain.

Keith, just in from work, ran into her room, followed by his wife.

Beth catered to her daughter. Keith looked to Tracy for an explanation.

“What the hell is goin' on in here?” Keith asked, sternly.

Tracy cringed, but she hinted a smile. “We was fighting.”

Beth noticed Tracy's gleeful expression and said, “You could have hurt her real bad, Tracy. That's not funny.”

“I'm sorry, Ms. Beth. I just got mad, that's all.”

“Well, where the hell is Mercedes? She should have been in here watching them anyway,” Keith shouted.

“She, she in her room, sleeping,” Raheema stuttered, wiping tears from her eyes.

“She's
sleeping?” K
eith asked, baffled. “Is she sick or something?” he asked his wife.

“No, but she's been sleeping all day,” Beth answered.

Everyone followed Mr. Keith into Mercedes' room to see what was wrong with her. Keith clicked on the light and woke her up. Beth, Raheema and Tracy looked in from the door.

“Wake up, girl! Are you sick or somethin'?”

Mercedes wiped out her eyes with closed fists. “No, I'm just tired,” she muttered.

“You're
tired?
Girl, you didn't even have school today. What 'chew do to be so
tired?”

Mercedes squinted her eyes from the glaring light. “I'on know.”

“Well, get up. It's time to eat,” her father told her. “And you make sure these kids don't get in any more fights.”

Mercedes felt overjoyed about her secret. Keith didn't seem as smart as he used to be. He wasn't as scary either. He thought he had everything uptight, but Mercedes had proved him wrong.

She ate dinner silently. She washed the dishes, pondering over her
passive mother. Beth had allowed her father to be God in their house.
He's not God,
Mercedes thought to herself.

She cleaned the floor, the kitchen table and the refrigerator without a complaint. She then watched television, ignoring Raheema and Tracy. They contributed to her torture. Mercedes was beginning to hate them as well.

She wondered how Keith became her dad in the first place. He was too damned mean to have a woman like her mother.
What did she see
in him?
she asked herself.
He doesn't even act like he likes us.
All Keith seemed to do was pay the bills and control their lives.

Patti stayed out late. She picked her daughter up early Saturday morning. Tracy didn't bother to ask her mother how her date went. She daydreamed about her daddy coming over to see them. Dave hadn't been to see them in a few months. He mailed Tracy's allowance checks to the house religiously, but Tracy wanted badly to see him. Dave added the needed spice to her young life.

“So did you have fun last night?” Patti asked her.

Tracy was watching
Space Ghost
in her room. She was sitting on her bed with crossed legs and her face in her hands.

“No, 'cause we didn't do nothin',” she pouted.

Patti frowned.
I know she can speak better than that,
she told herself. But she decided to ignore it. She sat down and joined her daughter on her bed. “You didn't?”

“No. We started fighting.”

“Fighting? Why?”

“Because,
Ra-Ra
don't know nothin'.”

Patti was confused. “Well, what were you two talking about?”

“We was talkin' 'bout: don't girls sleep in the daytime when 'ney thinkin' 'bout boys?”

“What I tell you about trying to talk so fast?” Patti snapped.

“Okay,” Tracy said with a nod.

“What does sleeping in the daytime have to do with anything?” Patti asked her.

“Because, Mercedes is talking to boys, and she was sleeping all yesterday.”

“That doesn't mean that she was necessarily dreaming about a boy. She could've just been tired.”

“No she wasn't. She never sleeps in the daytime.”

Patti pondered the subject. “I don't know, girl,” she said to Tracy. Mercedes was old enough to mess around. Tracy could have been right. But if Mercedes was seeing boys, it would serve Keith right. He had tortured her enough. And whatever it was that she was doing, it seemed to be making Mercedes' personality a lot stronger. Patti had noticed the recent glow on her face.
Hmm. Maybe Tracy's onto something.

DING DONG!

“Mommy, somebody's at the door!” Tracy yelled.

Patti walked out from the kitchen wondering who it could be. She looked through the peephole and was shocked.

“Who is it, mommy? . . . Who is it?” Tracy repeated.

Patti finally answered her. “Guess who, honey?”

“DAD-DY!”

Tracy jumped into his arms, and Dave kissed her on the lips, spinning her around the living room.

Patti watched with a smile. She was still happy to see him. And she still loved him.
Nevertheless, he should have called first,
she thought.

Dave just thought he'd drop by. It was
still
his house.

“So how's my little girl?” he asked, sitting on the couch with Tracy on his lap.

“I'm okay, daddy.”

“You're still talking a lot in school?”

“Not like before.”

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