Tracy shot up in height during the football season to tower over most of the boys. She lost her babyface look, and she began to wear her hair shoulder length and curled. Although she was just thirteen, her size made her appear seventeen or eighteen. Tracy had developed into a vivaciously curved young lady, with a new hobby, observing herself inside of the mirror.
Raheema grew a bit herself, but neither she nor her older sister, Mercedes, had grown anywhere as tall or as well-defined as Tracy had. Tracy outgrew most of the girls her age, beginning to look more like a high-schooler than an eighth-grader. She was beginning to attract the attention of much older guys as well. High-schoolers had always gathered after school to entice younger girls who were willing to step up in competition. And at least physically, Tracy had crossed over into the bigger, faster league of the dating game.
On a Friday afternoon in the frost of winter, Tracy headed home from school, sensing plenty of the lustful teenaged eyes glued to her backside. Expecting them to approach her, Tracy was more than willing to test her tempting skills of persuasion with the older guys. By the time she reached the corner, one high-school boy had decided to try his luck.
“Ay, sexy, come here for a minute,” he said, smiling with assurance. He knew he was older than Tracy, and young-girls were easy to talk to.
Tracy cracked a grin and walked over to him, swaying her newly developed hips as she pouted her medium-full lips and licked them wet as she stood.
The boy anxiously thought about what to say to her. What’s the coolest line? he mused. “Yeah, umm, what’s your name?” he asked, warming up his game.
“It’s Tracy,” she answered him, huskily and slow. “Why?”
“ ’Cause you look good, and I wanna get to know you.”
Tracy used her stabbing hazels to dazzle him. “You looking for a girlfriend, or just somebody to mess wit’?” she quizzed him.
The older boy was stunned. “What? Oh, I mean, I’on know,” he said, stumbling.
“What’s your name?” Tracy asked him.
“Jeff.”
“Where your girlfriend at, Jeff? I know you got one. Don’t you?”
Jeff backed off, trying desperately to get himself together. “I ain’t got no girlfriend,” he mumbled. His self-assurance was gone in the wind. Tracy had turned out to be more than what he had expected.
“Why not? You look cute to me,” she told him, while moving in closer to him. Tracy always knew when she had a boy on his heels.
Jeff laughed nervously. “Come on now,” he responded, losing eye contact with her. She was invading his comfort zone.
Tracy knew she would reject him. Jeff was not cool enough to gain her consideration. She just wanted to practice her game, and she was doing extremely well.
Jeff asked, “Where’s your boyfriend?”
Tracy fixed the new gold ring that she wore on her right hand. “I don’t have one.”
“Oh yeah,” Jeff responded meaninglessly. He was hesitant to continue. The young girl was more than he had bargained for.
Tracy locked in on his eyes with hers. She knew the effect that this would have. Only the most confident boys could survive her intent stare. “Are you finished?” she asked him seductively, loving every minute of it.
“Yeah, but umm, I’ll see you around, aw’ight,” he stammered.
The high-schooler backed completely away, embarrassed with himself. Tracy turned to walk home, beaming from ear to ear.
“Yo, you didn’t answer me,” he pouted. His friends were approaching.
Tracy turned with a smile and said, “Bye,” breathlessly. She figured that Jeff had to show off for his friends. All the guys did it.
When Tracy arrived at home, her neighbor, Raheema, was at the door. Tracy was tempted to gossip with her like she had done with Mercedes, yet she quickly realized that their interests in life were different. All Raheema talked about was what the teachers did in school. She was not interested in any of Tracy’s boy stories. Nevertheless, they decided to chat. Tracy went into Raheema’s house, getting out of the cold.
Raheema said, “All you talk about is boys, and I remember when you didn’t even like them.”
“Well, all I know is that Todd was cute. And you should have talked to him.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Tracy. I heard about you kissing him in the driveway.”
Tracy twisted her lips. “You didn’t want him.” She had moved on from Amir and on to his friend Todd.
Raheema huffed, “I know I didn’t. I don’t want any boys, thank you.”
“Oh, you think you so smart, don’t ’chew?”
“No, but I’m not getting used by any boy, that’s for sure.”
“How you know?”
“Because I won’t talk to them,” Raheema answered frankly. “That’s why I’m going into dance class, to do something that doesn’t involve boys.”
“What dance class?” Tracy asked, feeling left out. Football season and cheerleading were over.
“None of your business,” Raheema snapped. She had outdone Tracy again.
Tracy went home and waited impatiently for her mother to arrive with her brother. She wanted the 4-1-1 on Raheema’s dance class, and she had a fool-proof plan of how to get it.
“Hey mom, I think it would be good for me to be in a dance class. You know how bored I get after doing my homework.”
“Yeah, okay then,” Patti responded, while taking off her son’s coat and hat. “Where is it at and all?”
Tracy grinned. “I don’t know all that, but Ra-Ra’s in it, so Ms. Beth probably knows.”
Patti called Beth about the dance class. It was held near Patti’s sister Tanya’s house in Logan. Patti called Tanya to see if she wanted Patrice, or “Reese,” as they called her, to take dance lessons, too. Tracy didn’t expect that. But Reese was not that bad when she was not around her other cousins, Trish and Marie. Reese took sides with them rather than with Tracy because she was afraid of them.
On the first day of dance, their instructor went over the calendar schedule for the four-month dance session. During their first exercises, Tracy snickered at her cousin Reese’s form, while Raheema did the same to her. For all three of them, it was more hard work than expected. Tracy found out rather quickly that dance was definitely more complicated than cheerleading.
A flock of rough boys played basketball inside of the recreation center where the girls held their dance lessons. The boys watched the girls with excitement. Every year the boys anticipated the pretty new girls that dance classes attracted to their rec center. It had become a ritual, and it was only a matter of time before they would start to mingle with the girls. On Tracy’s third night of class, a boy finally approached her.
“Ay girl, you cute as shit,” he told her. “Why don’t you come over here and talk to me when you finish?” he said.
“Thank you,” Tracy responded to him. She began to smile in his direction before she took a good look at him. Once she got a better look at him, Tracy thought that he was ugly. “That’s okay. My mom is coming to get me,” she told him.
The forward boy persisted. “So what? She ain’t here yet.”
Tracy lied and said, “Well, I have a boyfriend.”
The boy then got an attitude and grimaced at her. “Dude ain’t here either,” he said, walking closer to her.
Tracy scrambled to her feet from her stretching position. “Naw, that’s all right,” she said. The boy then moved as if he was about to grab her. Tracy quickly dashed toward the dance instructor. “Ms. Hamilton, that boy is after me,” she squealed.
“Leave her alone, Ricky!” Ms. Hamilton screamed at the boy.
The boy smiled. “Aw, I was just playin’ with her, Ms. Hamilton, that’s all.”
Tracy was excited about the close call when her mother arrived. She told Patti what happened, and her mother laughed good and hard. Raheema rode home with them after Patti had dropped her niece, Reese, off.
“Hey, dad. What’s up?” Tracy perked when she had arrived home with her mother.
Dave sat watching television with his son. He looked at Tracy as if he was in shock. “Damn! Who are you?” he responded, jokingly.
They smiled at each other and shared a laugh.
“She just blossomed like that overnight,” Patti told him with a grin. It was Dave’s first time seeing his daughter in a leotard.
Dave said, “Come here and turn around.” Tracy felt embarrassed as she turned around in her baby-blue tights. “Gir-r-r-l, you got a big butt back there,” Dave said with a laugh.
Tracy gushed, “Yup, dad, I grew. Didn’t I?”
“You damn sure did. Your mother’s gonna have to put a curfew on you now.”
Tracy smirked as she sat down beside him. “Yup, dad, this ugly boy tried to talk to me today,” she told him.
“Did you give him your phone number?”
Tracy looked disgusted. “No, that boy looked like a monster.”
Dave grinned. “Those are the best ones. They’ll do anything for you.”
Patti had had enough. She marched to her usual spot in the kitchen. She was no longer crazy about seeing Dave as long as he insisted on playing presto man, popping in and out of their lives.
“Naw, dad, you can have that. My man has to look good,” Tracy was telling him.
Patti came back out from the kitchen wearing her apron. “How was your dance class, other than the boy?”
Tracy shrugged. “I mean, it was okay. It’s a lot of work though.”
Little Jason jumped up on Tracy’s lap to get some attention.
“Get off of me, boy,” she huffed, pushing him away.
“Stop, Tracy. He’s just being friendly,” Patti reasoned.
“I’m tired of him jumping all over me, mom.”
Dave grimaced. “Oh, you’re that mature now, hunh?” he asked. “I remember when you were running around here with a snotty nose and doo-doo stains in your drawers.”
Tracy threw her hands over her ears in embarrassment. Dave and Patti laughed as she tried to block them out.
Patti asked, “How are you getting along with Reese?”
Tracy smiled, still feeling stunned. “She’s all right. She doesn’t say much to me.”
“She’s your cousin, Tracy,” Patti fumed at her.
“Yeah, but they start stuff all the time.”
“Well, how is Raheema doing?” Dave asked.
“She’s all right, too. We just have differences in opinion.”
“What about Mercedes? What she been into?”
“She’s been all over the place by now,” Patti answered him. She had recently talked to Beth about it. “Mercedes is out there in them streets, chasing after the money.”
Tracy added, “Yup, she got some real nice clothes, too.”
“Didn’t you need some new jeans?” Dave asked Tracy as he pulled out his wallet.
“Yeah. I’m starting to outgrow everything now,” Tracy answered him. She watched her father peel off five twenties.
Dave handed it out to her. “This is all I got for you right now.”
Tracy took the money with a nod and cracked a grin. “Thanks, dad. Me and mom can go shopping this weekend.”
Again, Patti decided to hold her tongue to keep the peace. A couple pairs of jeans does not excuse you from acting like an asshole, she thought to herself.
Saturday came quickly, and Tracy went out shopping at the mall with her mother. Tracy tried on clothes in every store they entered. She just had to have brand-name fashions. Patti urged her to buy bargains, but bargains ruin teenaged reputations. Tracy wanted to dress stylishly.
She bought Coca-Cola, Guess and Gloria Vanderbilt jeans along with an Adidas sweat suit and three pairs of shoes. She then went with her mother to a jewelry store for a gold bracelet.
Dave’s hundred dollars was spent after the first two pair of jeans. Patti ended up paying for her daughter’s other things. And since Tracy wanted to keep up with the trends, she worked it out with her father to receive seventy dollars for shopping every other week. Soon her closets were filled with gear.
Tracy began to out-dress everyone at school, and every boy wanted her phone number. When Christmas time came, she had clothing under the tree. Tracy could not get enough. She spent hours matching and ironing clothing for each school day. She would then change her outfits several times each morning until she was satisfied with what she planned on wearing.
Tracy became a hot topic with the boys in her neighborhood. With the increase in her already large ego, she decided that no one was good enough for her. She had far surpassed Mercedes’ popularity at thirteen. And Tracy had not given up any. She was a proud virgin.
“Ay, what’s up, Tracy? Who’s your boyfriend?” an eighth-grader asked inside the school hallway.
Tracy closed her locker. “Don’t worry about it,” she told him.
“Dag, I’m just askin’.”
“Well don’t, and get away from my locker.”
As the bell rang, the eighth-grader asked, “Can I talk to you?”
“Excuse me, I’m late for class,” Tracy said, walking by.
“Well, I’ll walk you there.”
“I don’t need you to walk me to class, boy. I got legs.”
The boy smiled admiringly, as Tracy stepped away from him. She walked through the hall with her head high, strutting around as if she was a teenaged queen and was late for her class.
“Tracy, you have two more times to walk into my class late, and then you’ll have a detention,” the teacher warned her. Ms. Patterson was a white woman in her early thirties, shorter than Tracy and with jet black hair and glasses.
Tracy smiled nonchalantly. She was unfazed by the teacher’s warning.
Ms. Patterson asked, “Tracy Ellison, what did I just say?”
“Hunh? I don’t know.”
There was a pause. Tracy was becoming a distraction to the class. “I am sick and tired of you daydreaming in my class,” Ms. Patterson yelled at her.
Tracy rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t ask me no questions then.”
“Do you think that you’re too good to answer questions, Tracy?”
Tracy sighed and ignored her.
“That’s it! GO to the principal’s office, because I’m SICK OF YOU!”
“I was paying attention,” Tracy snapped.
“Well, turn around, sit up, and listen.”
A boy snickered at Tracy from the back of the class.
“What ’chew laughin’ at, boy?” Tracy said to him.
“Aw, shet up, girl. You think you it now, just because you got your Christmas presents on.”
The students roared with laughter.
“I ain’t get this for Christmas,” Tracy ranted.
“Yes, you did. You even got Christmas glitter on your jeans.”
“GET OUT! Both of you! NOW!” Ms. Patterson hollered.
“Aw, Ms. Patterson, I didn’t even do nothin’,” the boy whined, throwing his hands in the air as he pleaded.
Tracy frowned. “Yes he did.”
They left for the principal’s office with a note for detentions. The boy’s long arms swung loosely from his tall, walnut-colored frame as he strolled in front of Tracy.
“See, boy, you got me in trouble,” Tracy said to him.
“Yeah, I know. But Santa Claus was good to you this year. Wasn’t he?” the boy joked.
“Shet up,” Tracy snapped with a smile.
Long-arms was a regular comedian.
They sat inside of the main office lobby with five other students, all waiting to be seen by the principal. There were two girls and three boys. Tracy was the most glamorous thing in the room. She wore black leather boots with a long gray skirt and a matching gray sweater. She wore lip gloss and two gold chains that were neatly draped over her sweater, and a black leather purse dangling from her shoulder. She felt embarrassed to have to sit inside of the lobby with six lowifes.
Tracy sucked her teeth. “I’m tired of waiting in here.”
“Shet up, girl. Do you think I like bein’ out here?” the long-armed boy snapped at her, demanding respect and attention. He smiled at her once Tracy had piped down. “Sike, I’m just jokin’ with you,” he said.
Long-arms grinned at her. “But for real though, you look cute. I don’t want you to think that I don’t know it.”
“Thank you.”
“Yup, I feel like taking you into the bathroom and just giving it to you,” he said with a smile. Tracy couldn’t believe what he said, and he kept a straight face when he said it.
“I mean, you think I’m jokin’, but I’m serious,” he added.
Tracy smirked with nervous energy. She was scared to say anything. Long-arms seemed to turned everything into an embarrassing joke.
“You know we gon’ be here all day after school,” he commented.
“For real?” Tracy asked, unaware. She had never had a detention before.
“Yup, so you might as well come over to my house and have dinner.”
Tracy smiled. “You a trip.”
“So, Tracy, who’s your boyfriend?” he asked her. “Because I’m ready to give dude a handshake.”
“I don’t have one.”
“For real?”
“Yup.”
Long-arms cracked a broad smile. “You might as well give me your number then,” he said, taking out a pen and notebook to write it down. The other students eyed Tracy to see if she would oblige.
Tracy didn’t think the boy was good-looking, but he was funny. She could not refuse him. The boy was simply amusing, and his offbeat comments kept her on her toes.
He smiled at her, half-expecting that she would give it to him. “So what is it?”
Tracy ran her number off to him. “Eight-four-two, five-four-three-seven.”
He sloppily jotted it down. “Aw’ight, bet. When can I call you up?”
“I got dance class tonight, so I won’t be home until nine.”
“Aw, you into that stupid shit?” he snapped, for another laugh.
Tracy giggled at it herself. “It ain’t stupid,” she argued.
“Yes that shit is. Y’all be in there doin’ all that jumpin’ around and stuff for like a year, to do one show.”
Tracy began to laugh with the other students. Long-arms was the life of the party. “So what?” she told him. “It builds your body though.”
“Yeah, ’cause I’ma tear your body up.”
The boy’s rash humor was intriguing to Tracy. He was even taller than her, for a change.
“You know my name, right?” he quizzed her.
“Umm, it’s Travis, ain’t it?” she said, acting as if she was not sure about it.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Travis said. He chuckled, knowing that she knew.
The principal roared, “You two! Get inside of my office!”
Tracy didn’t have a love-at-first-sight feeling about Travis, but there were definitely sparks between them. He had plain looks, but a lot of character. Travis was unafraid to speak his mind, and Tracy could not wait to talk to him after her dance class.
“One, two, three, four, and one, two, three, four,” Ms. Hamilton chanted, coordinating the class. “Raheema, what’s wrong with you today? You’re not in the rhythm at all, honey.”
“I’m not feeling too well,” Raheema whimpered.
“Come here.” Ms. Hamilton pulled Raheema over to the side of the room. Lord, I hope and pray that this girl isn’t pregnant or something, she thought to herself. She has her whole life ahead of her. Ms. Hamilton had come in contact with all kinds of problem children over the years. “What’s wrong?” she asked Raheema, privately.
“I got a D on one of my tests. I’m scared that I’m gonna get in trouble,” Raheema answered, with tears in her eyes.
Ms. Hamilton was relieved. “Baby, you’re not gonna get in trouble for one D,” she contested. “Don’t you have straight A’s on your report card?”
Tears rolled down Raheema’s cheeks. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“What do you think is going to happen to you?”
Raheema wiped her eyes. “My father’s gonna say that I can’t dance anymore.”
“Honey, he’s not going to do that. The show is coming up soon.”
“Yes he is. I know it.”
“Well, what if I talk to your parents?”
“You can only talk to my mother. My father won’t listen to you.”
“Okay then. I’ll give your mother a call tonight.”
Ms. Hamilton spoke to Beth about her daughter’s situation. Beth told her that her husband was not upset, but that Raheema would have to study more on the weekends to compensate for time lost to her dance lessons.
“Hey mom, did I get any phone calls earlier?” Tracy asked, just to make sure. It was after nine o’clock. Travis was supposed to have called her by then. Maybe he forgot about my dance class and called me earlier, she thought.
“No. Were you expecting one?”
“Yeah,” Tracy said, disappointed.
BRRRRIIIINNNNNGG!
“That’s for me, mom. I’ll get it,” Tracy said while scrambling for the phone. “Hello, this is Tracy,” she answered.
Patti sneered at her. “Now you know better than to answer the phone like that,” she huffed.
“Yo, what’s up?” Travis responded.
“Nothin’. I thought you were gonna call me at nine o’clock.”
“I would have, but my mom was on the phone.”
Patti decided to head up the steps and put Jason to bed. He had fallen asleep during the car ride from Tracy’s dance class.
Tracy immediately got more comfortable, plopping her feet up on the coffee table. “Well, I got home late from dance class anyway,” she said to Travis.
“So why you ask me if I called, then?” he snapped.
Tracy smiled. “Because you said you would.”
They talked all night and about everything. Travis made Tracy laugh for hours. When it had reached midnight though, Patti decided that enough was enough and abruptly ended their conversation.
“Tracy, get off of this damn phone.”
“Okay, mom. We’re almost finished.”
“I mean, now, girl.”
“All right,” Tracy snapped. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said to Travis, glumly. She could of at least came and told me instead jumping all on the phone like that, she fumed to herself. That was embarrassing.
“Aw’ight then,” Travis told her as they hung up.
Travis began to laugh once they had hung up the phone.
That next school day, Tracy wore her Coca-Cola jeans, white sneakers and blue Adidas sweat-suit jacket over a white tennis shirt.
“Ay, what’s up, Tracy?” a clean-cut boy asked her inside of the hallway.
“Hi, Martin,” she responded.
“Oh, you’re speaking to me today, hunh?”
“Yeah, but don’t get excited about it.”
Jantel came to talk to her. “Tracy, you hear about those girls wanting to beat you up?” she whispered.
“What girls?” Tracy asked, quizzically.
“I heard that it was Jackie and Sharon.”
Martin butted in. “They’re not gon’ do nothin’ to you. If they do, I’m jumping in it.”
“What they wanna fight me for?” Tracy asked Jantel.
“I’on know,” Jantel answered.
“Well, who told you this, Jantel?” Martin quizzed.
“I heard Crystal telling some girl in the bathroom.”
“Well, what she got to do with anything?” Tracy asked.
Jantel hunched her shoulders. “I’on know that either.”
Tracy grabbed her things. “Come on.”
They marched down the hall after Tracy. Crystal was shutting her locker as they arrived.
“Ay Crystal, Jackie and Sharon said they was gon’ jump me?” Tracy asked her.
Crystal backed away as if she was in on it. “I didn’t say that,” she responded, frantically.
“Jantel said she heard you in the bathroom.”
Crystal took a quick look at Jantel, who was embarrassed that Tracy put her name in it. “Well, I didn’t say that, and she need to mind her own business.”
“Yes you did. I heard you talking about it in the bathroom,” Jantel spoke up.
“Won’t you get the facts straight if you gon’ start spreadin’ gossip on somebody?” Crystal snapped at her. They squared off with each other. Jantel stood about three inches taller, but Crystal was ten pounds heavier.
Tracy butted in. “Look, I’m gon’ let you know right now, Crystal, they better not jump me, ’cause I’m gon’ get all of y’all if they do.”
“And I got her back,” Martin interjected.
Crystal stared at him. That boy better go ahead somewhere. My boyfriend’ll kick his ass, she thought to herself.
Other students began to watch. They were shocked by Tracy’s bravery. Then again, Tracy was taller than Crystal, Jackie and Sharon. Only Sharon was near Tracy’s size.
Crystal backed off, with a message to tell her friends.
When Tracy was late again for the same class, Ms. Patterson had a mouthful to say. “Tracy, get out of my room. I’ve decided to write a pink slip on you. You’ve been late to this class several times now, and you never pay any attention while in class. I’m surprised that you’re even passing.”
“No, Ms. Patterson, these girls were trying to get me after school, so I had to straighten that out, ’cause I don’t play that.”
“Come here,” Ms. Patterson responded to her. She walked out of the class and shut the door behind them. “Now who’s after you?” she asked, peering through her thin-rimmed glasses.
“Jantel told me that it was Jackie and Sharon, but I think that Crystal Johnson has something to do with it, too.”
“Well, why are they after you?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t appreciate it.”
“You and Travis have detentions today, right?” Ms. Patterson asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Tracy answered. What does that have to do with anything? she mused. I’m about to get jumped after school, and she’s sittin’ up here asking me about some damn detentions!
“Well, where is he?” she asked of Travis. “I’ve been noticing that he’s been absent from school a lot.”
Tracy hunched her shoulders and frowned. “Well, I don’t know where he is,” she said, still annoyed about Ms. Patterson giving her the third degree. She had more pressing concerns. Tracy had anticipated seeing Travis in school and had even dressed for him, yet he was not there. To top it off, she had a fight on her hands.
“Well, look, you go to your detention, and I’ll see about these girls,” Ms. Patterson informed her.
Tracy felt relieved. “Okay.”
After her detention, she rushed home to see what had happened to Travis. Travis was not home when she called. Tracy let the phone ring six times before she hung up. She then sat in the house, bored, with no dance class scheduled. She watched television in the living room before falling asleep on the couch.
“I got some Chinese food here, Tracy,” her mother walked in announcing, waking Tracy from her unexpected nap. Jason followed close behind as Patti took the food inside the kitchen.
Tracy climbed to her feet and followed them. She got a plate and tasted the food with a grimace. “Did you get this from the same place we usually go, mom?” she asked.
Patti frowned after tasting it herself. “No. I know it probably doesn’t taste as good.”
“Nope. It tastes overcooked.”
“What happened in school today?” Patti asked, ignoring the plate that Tracy pushed away.
“Oh, these girls were gon’ try and jump me after school, mom.”
Patti raised her brow. “For what?”
“I don’t know, but I got it straightened out.”
Patti nodded and suddenly snapped her fingers. She then stood up from her chair and got her pocketbook. “I need you to do me a favor. Go down on the avenue and get me some cake dressing. It comes in a little tube in the bakery,” she said, describing the size of the tube with her hands.
Tracy hurried out of the house with the unfinished Chinese food setting on the table. She walked through the whipping cold, wondering where Travis could have been and what he was doing. As usual, the neighborhood boys hung out on the corners of Wayne and Chelten Avenues in their long down coats and colorful ski jackets. Tracy ignored their suggestions. She bought the cake dressing and headed home a different route to avoid them.
A crowd of teens was gathered at a small street intersection. A bloody-nosed boy came shuffling through the pack with a bruised and battered face. Tracy tried her best to back away and was helplessly surrounded by the flowing crowds.
“What’s up, girl?” Travis said to her out of the crowd.
Tracy grabbed on to him for protection. “Travis, what’s going on?”
“Oh, Victor just beat some dude up.”
“Who is Victor?”
“You never heard of Victor? He’s thorough as shit. He just whipped dude ass,” he responded, excitedly.
“Who does he hang out with?”
“He hangs out with the High-Low crew: Mark Bates, Tyrone, Peppy, and all them other hoodlum dudes.”
“He hangs out with Peppy? I hate that boy,” Tracy commented. “What does he look like?”
“He’s a dark-skinned, pretty muthafucka with a lot of flyy gear,” Travis answered. “But it wasn’t like I be lookin’,” he joked with a grin. “Naw, dude is pretty decent. Straight up.”
Tracy could tell that Travis had a lot of respect for him. That only made her more interested.
“What’s his last name?”
Travis stopped himself. “Wait a minute now, we gon’ stop talkin’ ’bout dude. What’s up with me and you?”
Tracy laughed it off as they began walking toward her house.
“Where we goin’?” Travis asked her.
“I’m goin’ home,” Tracy told him with a smile.
Travis had found himself halfway down the block with her. He then shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands. “I might as well walk you home then.”
“Where were you at during school today?” she asked, changing the subject. She had looked forward to seeing him.
“I ain’t go to school.”
“So where were you? I called your house, twice.”
Travis grinned. “Oh, you really wanted to talk to me, hunh?” he responded, pleased with her concern.
“Shet up,” Tracy said, grinning back at him.
“I was at my boy’s crib. I’m goin’ over there after school tomorrow, too.”
“What do y’all do over there?” Tracy asked as they crossed the street.
“Nothing, really. We just watch television and videotapes and shit. My boy got one of them chill cribs. His mom works like twenty-four-seven. She ain’t never home.”
They reached Tracy’s house and chatted a bit more before she went in. Tracy promised to go to his friend’s house with him after school the next day. Travis promised her that other girls would be there, and Tracy trusted him. She was curious to see what they all did to entertain themselves.
After getting out of school, Tracy followed Travis and three other girls behind his loud friends. She had a funny feeling about following a group of mischievous teens to a boy’s unsupervised home. Jantel had turned down her offer to tag along, and Tracy had become apprehensive about what they all planned to get into. Travis responded sourly at her suggestion. He didn’t want Jantel tagging along. “All she gon’ do is get in the way,” he said.
Get in the way of what? Tracy thought. I hope Travis don’t think he’sgonna get anything from me. Travis was not attractive enough for Tracy to jeopardize her virginity, but it sure looked like a party of couples.
Once they arrived at the boy’s house, all of the girls watched television while the boys ran around collecting money for something. Tracy was baffled and curious. She felt uncomfortable. The boys were not even talking to them. What the hell are they doing? she panicked. Tracy wanted to leave after the first ten minutes. It was a big mistake.
Once their money was gathered, one boy left the house. The others then decided to converse with the girls. A shockingly attractive boy sat in a chair opposite from Tracy. He was tanned-skinned with small dark eyes and dark curly hair. His thick dark hair was tapered on the sides and long on top.
Tracy could not take her eyes from him. She looked over his new Nike sneakers and his red and blue Fila sweat suit. Dag! I wish I was here with him instead of with Travis, she thought to herself.
“Ay Bob, did he go to get it?” the girl wearing a green Champion sweatshirt asked him.
Bob said, “Yeah, he’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
“What are we waiting for?” Tracy asked.
Bob laughed. “We waitin’ for some weed. You ever smoked weed before?”
“Unt unh. I don’t do that.”
Bob smiled at her through dark slit eyes. “Why not? It gets you in the mood. It makes you feel nice as hell.”
“Yup, girl. It makes everything in the world seem funny,” the green-sweatshirt girl responded.
Bob said, “Dig. Remember that time we got on over Mark Bates’ house?”
Green-sweatshirt girl nodded her head and smiled.
Bob stared back at Tracy. “Do you go with Travis?” he asked her.
“No,” Tracy said, overjoyed that she didn’t.
“Y’all just friends, or do you like each other?”
Tracy hunched her shoulders and smiled. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Bob asked with a frown of confusion.
Travis called from the kitchen in the nick of time, “Ay Tracy, come here.”
Tracy got up in her long, black boots and blue Gloria Vanderbilt jeans. The tight-fitting jeans hugged her firm behind quite snugly.
Bob could not take his eyes off of her either. “DAMN!” he howled, shaking his dark, curly-haired head.
“Ay Bob, you better cut that shit out, cuz’,” Travis warned with a chuckle. “So what’s up? You gon’ get on with us?” he asked Tracy inside of the kitchen.
Tracy made up her mind. “Naw. I ain’t really down with that.”
“So what we gon’ do then?”
“I’on know,” she said. She felt unsure with Travis. She was more interested in Bob.
“Have you ever had sex before?” Travis asked her bluntly.
“Yeah,” Tracy lied, embarrassed.
“Aw’ight then. We gon’ go to my boy’s room when dude gets back with the nickel bag.”
Tracy wanted to tell him “No,” but she knew she’d seem young if she caused a scene, so she kept quiet.
“Aw’ight,” she said, nonchalantly. I ain’t doing nothin’ though, she told herself as she turned and walked back to her seat inside of the living room.
Tracy sensed Bob’s eyes glued to her behind again. All he did was smile at her, and Tracy was immediately tantalized. She wanted to lose her virginity to him, and she didn’t even know him. Bob gave her that sexual feeling.
The errand boy had finally gotten back with the small yellow bag of marijuana. He brought two more boys with him. Tracy really felt uncomfortable then. They spread the crushed dried leaves right out on the table in front of her and started rolling joints. Tracy was praying that they didn’t ask her to smoke any. And they didn’t.
The two quiet girls were dragged up the stairs. Bob sat there giggling at Tracy. He didn’t seem interested in anything after he had gotten high.
Tracy grinned at him. “Why you laughin’?”
“ ’Cause you funny.” His dark eyes got smaller, making him look even cuter to Tracy.
“Tracy! Come here!” Travis yelled. He led her up the steps and into the back room. He then patted his lap for Tracy to have a seat on it. She sat on his lap hesitantly, feeling nervous about it.
Travis began to rub his hands over her breasts. Tracy began to breathe slower, deeper. Through the thin walls, she could clearly hear moans and a squeaky bed from the next room. It added to Tracy’s sensuality, but not for Travis. He tried to kiss her. Tracy turned her head to avoid him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, holding her tighter.
“Nothin’,” Tracy said. She didn’t want to say it, but she hoped that he would get the message. Travis put his hands on her pants zipper. Tracy grabbed his hand to stop him.
“Come on, now,” Travis whined.
Tracy took a deep breath to force out her suppressed comments. “I don’t wanna do this.”
“What? See now, why you playin’ wit’ me?” he fumed at her.
Tracy got off of his lap. “I’m goin’ downstairs,” she said.
She hurried down the steps and saw the same sociable girl sharing a joint with Bob.
Travis came down after her. “Ay Tammy, come here for a minute,” he said. Tammy wasn’t attractive. Tracy thought she’d “do it” with anyone. Travis and Tammy went up the steps.
Tracy was left alone with Bob, who immediately began to giggle.
“Why you keep laughin’ at me?”
“Come here,” he said. He stood up and looked her straight in the eyes. “You ain’t down wit’ Travis, hunh?”
Tracy shook her head. “Unt unh.”
“Get your coat and stuff,” Bob told her, caressing her hand.
Tracy wanted to be with him. They left, holding hands and heading for Bob’s house.
“Come downstairs,” he said. Tracy took her coat and bag. “My mom might be comin’ home soon,” he warned her.
Tracy stood inside of his red-carpeted basement. Bob walked over to her and pulled her body to his, kissing her. She then felt his hands, running down her back as he squeezed her behind. His pants tightened as she felt his masculinity throbbing against her leg.
It was all happening too fast, and Tracy wanted more. She could feel Bob’s vibrations through her jeans. It took him a while to get her zipper down. He then peeled her clothes to her ankles. Tracy felt the basement draft whip around her bare lower body, while Bob began to peel his own clothing to his ankles. That was when Tracy saw it approaching her legs.
It was difficult for Bob to position himself on top of her because her pants were not completely off, making it hard for him to spread her legs. Bob then tried to force it with Tracy resisting and pulling back.
“Bob, take my pants off,” she whispered.
He sat up and thought about it. “I’on know, ’cause my mom is comin’ home soon.”
Tracy sighed, disappointed. She leaned up with him. “Well, try again like this.”
Bob tried, but it was no use. He then saw shadows through the basement window.
“Oh shit! It’s my mom and my sister!”
Tracy pulled her pants up in a hurry. Bob snatched her coat and bag and led her to the back door. She ran out of his house and down the driveway, excited about the suspense. Bob ran back into his basement and turned on Inspector Gadget. His long-haired mother walked down into the basement and looked around. Bob sat and smiled at her, nervously.
“What’s up, mom?”
“Boy, you think you so slick. I know you had a girl in here,” his mother said, glancing at the back door.
She looked at Bob with an evil eye. “I keep tellin’ you, boy, them damn girls gon’ get pregnant. Now you keep runnin’ around here like they won’t trap you. Because it’s a whole lot of confused little girls out here who are just dying to have some pretty babies. You hear me?”
DING DONG! DING DONG!
“Jantel, I got something to tell you!” Tracy screamed.
Jantel opened her door. “What?”
“You know some boy named Bob?” Tracy asked, throwing her book-bag to the floor.
“He got real curly hair?”
“Yeah, and he hangs out with Travis and them?”
Jantel got excited. “Yup, that boy is cute as I don’t know what. All the girls like him.”
“I was just over his house,” Tracy bragged.
“Uuuuw, for real?” Jantel squealed, happy for Tracy.
“Yup, and he did it to me,” Tracy fibbed.
Jantel whispered, “How it feel?”
“It felt gooood.”
“Dag, I would love to do it with him. You go with him now?”
“Yup,” Tracy lied again. She wanted to go with Bob though.
Jantel sighed. “Dag, you lucky, girl. How did you meet him?”
“I was with Travis, but I didn’t want to do it with him, ’cause he ugly, so I left with Bob.”
“Uuuuw, you nasty, girl.”
“Shet up, you would want some from him, too, so don’t even try that goody-two-shoes role,” Tracy retorted.
“Yup, if he asked me,” Jantel admitted to her.
Tracy went home and daydreamed about having kids with and marrying Bob. She hardly knew the boy, but he was s-o-o-o-o cute that it didn’t matter. He was the best-looking boy she had had yet. He even dressed nice. Tracy planned to get his phone number and go finish what they started. She forgot about Travis. She told herself that she only liked him because he was funny. But Bob was someone she could really be with. As far as her virginity . . . oh well. Everybody has to lose their virginity one day, she figured. And Bob was an excellent choice to lose it to.
Tracy wore her best outfit, hoping Bob would come to see her after school. She wore a blue leather skirt suit that everyone talked about. It was one of the expensive outfits that she had received for Christmas. Tracy caught all eyes and nothing but compliments.
“You look like a knock-out today, girl,” Jantel told her.
Tracy cracked a wide smile. “Yeah, I know. I hope he comes up here today.”
“Well, if he don’t, he doesn’t know what he’s missin’.”
“Maybe we could go to the movies tonight,” Tracy suggested. It was Friday.
Jantel nodded. “Yup, you should ask him, Tracy. And I can go with y’all.”
Tracy shook her head with a grin. “Not this time.”
Jantel sucked her teeth. “Oh, you’re going solo on me now, Tracy?”
“That’s right,” Tracy piped.
A few boys whistled up the hall at her. Tracy ignored them.
Jantel said, “See, everybody is on you.”
“I know, but when you look like me they can’t help it,” Tracy responded with a laugh. Her head was definitely getting big.
They went to their classes like any other day, but Tracy got real nervous when the final bell rang. She chewed gum violently to calm her nerves. She then slowly walked to her locker to get the books that she needed for homework. Other girls stared at her jealously.
Tracy didn’t look around for Bob after school. Her nerves were too shot. In fact, she began to hope that he wouldn’t show. Jantel walked alongside her.
“Hey girl, what’s up?” a voice called from behind.
Tracy turned around and smiled, no longer nervous. “I didn’t get your phone number yesterday,” she said to him.
Bob acted as if he didn’t hear her. “Check you out,” he commented. “They said you was flyy, but damn!” He looked inside of Tracy’s coat to peep her leather suit. His breath smelled of marijuana, and his clothing was not as classy as it had been the day before.
Tracy looked him over. “So what ’chew want?” she asked snappishly.
“Oh, I just came to see you.”
“Well.”
Bob laughed at nothing. Tracy frowned at him.
“When you gon’ come see me again?” he asked.
Jantel began to walk away, fanning herself. “This is too much heat for me,” she joked.
“Hold up, Jantel, I’m coming with you. What did you say, Bob?” Tracy asked him, making him repeat himself. It was happening again; Tracy was quickly losing her interest.
“When you gon’ come over again?” Bob repeated.
Tracy waved her hand in front of her mouth. “Dag, you been smokin’ weed.” It didn’t seem to bother her before.
Bob grinned and said, “Yeah, we got on again.”
“Was Travis with y’all?”
“Yeah, he was there.” Bob was laughing at everything. “But umm, I’ma get back wit’ ’chew. Aw’ight? I got something to do. I just wanted to see you right quick.”
“All right then,” Tracy told him, glad that he was leaving. She watched Bob walk away like a lunatic, bumping all into people with the sun making his dark curly hair shine. He was cute all right, but he was also damaging his looks by taking drugs.
Tracy turned to head home with Jantel. She asked, “Did you see how on he was?”
“Yeah. I thought you didn’t notice,” Jantel commented.
Tracy thought things over. “Dag, I don’t know about him now. He was lookin’ like a bum.”
“He’s still pretty though, Tracy.”
“No, he ain’t all that. His hair was all crazy-looking.”
They laughed as they crossed Wayne Avenue.
Jantel asked, “Are you gonna get with him this weekend?”
“I don’t know. I got this dance show tonight. I almost forgot about it, and I’m going to that party tomorrow.”
“Carmen’s party?” Jantel asked.
“Yeah. You goin’, too?”
“Yeah, girl,” Jantel answered excitedly. “Everybody’s gonna be there. But I hate when them older guys come to the parties, like Mark and Peppy and them. All they do is cause trouble.”
“How old are they?” Tracy wanted to know.
“Like sixteen or seventeen. Why, you like one of them?”
“No. But do you know Victor?”
Jantel looked at her and shook her head with a scowl. “Oh, no, girl, he’s the main one,” she said.
“Why you say that?”
“Because, he’s always fightin’ somebody.”
Tracy nodded. “Yup, he beat this boy up just Wednesday night. Is he cute?” Tracy had heard that he was good-looking from several sources, but it didn’t hurt to ask again.
“Yeah, he’s cute,” Jantel answered. She said it as if she hated to admit it.
Jantel’s demeanor alarmed Tracy. “Why you say it like that?” she quizzed.
“Because, he uses girls to get what he wants. He ain’t no damn good. He got a lot of girls. And they be all fallin’ for his ruthless behind.”
Tracy could never seem to keep one particular guy on her mind for any long stretch of time. Victor was good-looking, older and popular. He had a way with women and could fight. Tracy wanted to meet him so badly it was killing her. Her attraction to boys was impulsive. Tracy just had to have whomever she wanted right away. Maybe he’ll be at Carmen’s party tomorrow night, she pondered. And if he did show, Tracy planned on being ready for him.
• • •
The dance performance was a huge success. All of the parents and plenty of guests watched the sixteen girls display what they had learned over ten weeks of dance lessons on a large theater stage on Broad Street. Raheema was happy for the first time in a long time. She was receiving an opportunity to be rewarded for something other than report cards. She danced her heart away, especially for her father. She wanted him to be proud of her. Even Tracy’s father, Dave, had made it out for the evening.
“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” Tracy asked Raheema while gathering their things inside of the dressing room. She figured she would try and turn a new leaf with her neighbor.
“No. I have a lot of work to do,” Raheema answered her, still overjoyed about the event.
“Do you think you can go to a party with me tomorrow?” Tracy pressed her.
Raheema shook her head, still smiling. “I’m not interested in parties.”
“Why not?”
Raheema sighed, tired of having to explain things to Tracy. “Tracy, I’m just different from you. I mean, I don’t get all excited about boys and parties and stuff.”
“Well, you were excited about this show,” Tracy reminded her.
“Yeah, because I was interested in this.”
Well, I tried, Tracy thought. “Okay then.”
Tracy got ready to go to the first big-time party of her life. It was “a dollar a holler” to get in. Everyone from the neighborhood would be there.
Tracy took a shower, washed and blow-dried her hair, put on some new underwear and snuck some of Patti’s perfume. She decided to wear a blue silk shirt with an off-white vest and pants set with her blue suede boots. She clipped on all three of her gold chains and was ready to head to the party, smelling good and looking good. She called Jantel over so she wouldn’t have to walk to the party by herself.
Plenty of teenagers were out that night, all heading to Carmen’s house-party. Tracy eyed all of the young hoodlums, trying to spot the one that fit Victor’s description. Only a few people were dancing when Tracy and Jantel had made it inside of the packed basement. It was still early, so most of the teens stood around bobbing to the DJ’s beats.
Tracy recognized several of the boys whom she had had a crush on over the years. Aaron Barnes was there with his friends, Amir with his, and even Steve was there. They all gazed at her, remembering when she was theirs, wishing that they could have another chance.
Tracy had never looked as good as she did at Carmen’s party. The high school girls were staring at her as well, as if Tracy was too much for her own good.
While waiting for Victor and the older guys to strut in, Tracy was shocked to see Travis and Bob walk through the door with their crew.
Bob noticed Tracy immediately. He then pulled her by her hand for a dance. Tracy refused him, but Bob wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. He grabbed her hand and pushed her into a corner. “Come on, now, dance with me.”
“Stop. I don’t feel like it,” Tracy told him, pulling away.
“Naw, you gon’ dance with me,” he persisted, smelling of marijuana again.
He dragged Tracy to the dance floor. She gave in, but she no longer cared how cute Bob was. He was a drug addict. She continued to watch the stairs for Victor over Bob’s shoulder.
Peppy shouted down the steps as he crashed the party with eight other guys, “YO-O-O, THE BOYS ARE IN THE HOUSE!”
Tracy said, “Hold up, Bob, I’ll be right back.” She hastily jerked Jantel’s hand through the packs of teenagers. “Which one is Victor?” she asked in Jantel’s ear.
Jantel looked through the crowd to spot Victor. “He’s not over there,” she said, still squinting in the direction of the rowdy party-crashers.
Tracy was pressed. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I could spot him easily. Victor always stands out. He’s not over there with them.”
Across the room, a sleepy-eyed boy asked Peppy, “Yo, where Vic at, man?”
Peppy smiled. “He’s wit’ that flyy-ass girl we met downtown in The Gallery.”
“Oh, for real? He’s always with some girl, ain’t he?”