by Omar Tyree
After a while, Tracy started to intervene, filled with jealousy. Yet she grew tired rather quickly of getting in Raheema’s way. Dag, Raheema’s lucky! she thought to herself as she began to watch, spiteful of all the attention her next-door neighbor was receiving.
“Ay, what’s your name?” a dimple-faced boy asked Raheema. He was standing next to a pinball machine inside of the arcade.
“Ra-Ra,” she said, smiling and backing away.
The dimple-faced boy seized her hand to keep her near. “Where you live at?”
Raheema yanked her hand away. “Diamond Lane.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No. I don’t want a boyfriend,” she told him.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t.”
“Well, can I talk to you as a friend?” he asked her nicely.
The other girls watched enviously.
Raheema then turned to them to rescue her from the jam she felt she was in. She asked no one in particular, “Aren’t we ready to go?”
“Answer his question,” Tracy said. She was purposefully trying to keep Raheema crammed.
“Well, if she won’t talk to you, I will,” Tracy’s girlfriend, Jantel, interjected while walking toward him. Jantel was a deep brown and skinny. She was very forward and athletic. She was one of the fastest girls on the track team at school. In fact, Jantel was faster than many boys her age.
The dimple-faced boy stood there in a daze, waiting for Raheema to respond to him.
Raheema shied away from him and slid behind the rest of the girls.
Tracy whispered, “He’s cute, Ra-Ra. Why don’t you want to talk to him?”
Raheema said aloud, “Because I don’t want to.”
“Dag, you stupid,” Tracy told her.
Raheema did the same to every boy who approached her at the mall that day. The other girls had no idea why Ra-Ra acted like she did. They all wished that they could take her place somehow.
“Uuw, look y’all, it’s try-outs for cheerleading,” Jantel said, noticing several fliers stapled to the telephone poles. As usual, Jantel led the pack on their way home.
The other girls ran over to join her as she read it aloud. Cheerleading was a sure method of meeting some top-quality boys. And football clubs in the Police Athletic League traveled around the city to play other teams. It was a great idea. They would become an important part of a new social organization.
Tracy hurried home to tell her mother about the cheerleading. Patti told her that she could join. She had not seen her daughter that excited in a while. The first day for try-outs was coming up in a week.
It was the beginning of August. Tracy turned thirteen in September. Raheema was a teen already, but she didn’t even bother to ask her parents about joining a cheerleading team. She thought it was out of the question. Keith would never let her join something so sexually suggestive, with little girls shaking their little hips and wearing little skirts while chanting sing-songs.
Tracy and her friends went to try-outs on that first Saturday in August. Thirty other girls were out for the same thing, but only fifteen of them could make the squad.
Tracy worked hard on her cheers at try-outs and stayed to watch the football players while they practiced. She was sure she was going to make the team. And she was right. Jantel had survived the cut with her.
The football players were immediately attracted to Tracy, but she had her eyes on the star running back. Steve had the admiration of all the boys on the team, and the coaches seemed to brag about him every day. Steve was going to be her next boyfriend. Tracy was sure of it.
She began to picture being with him even before the season started. After every touchdown he scored, she would wait on the sidelines and he would wink his eye at her. Then he would buy her a hot dog and soda and let her wear his jersey after the game.
Tracy expected to be the most popular girl on the team. She wanted to be the captain of the cheerleading squad, too. During the halftime shows, all of the parents and spectators would have their eyes glued to her.
Once the team started having scrimmages, Tracy asked enough about Steve to find out his age, address and the school he went to. She was not chosen to be the cheering captain, but that wasn’t that important. Steve being her boyfriend was Tracy’s priority.
Tracy then found out that Treasure, the captain of the cheering team, had already asked Steve for “a chance” to “go with her,” or in other words, to be her boyfriend. Steve liked her too, so he told her that he would. Yet Tracy didn’t believe that Steve really liked Treasure. He doesn’t like her more than he likes me. She just asked him first, Tracy assured herself.
Steve scored three touchdowns in their first game, and all of the fans were yelling out his name. Tracy was really pressed for him then. Part of her fantasy was coming true. Steve was the star of the team.
Tracy waited for him after the game and asked Steve how much he liked Treasure. Steve was pleased that Tracy was interested in him, but he was still loyal to his new girlfriend. He told Tracy that he liked Treasure a lot. Treasure even wore his jersey.
Tracy was on regular speaking terms with Steve after the second game. He began to notice Tracy a lot, but he still “went with” Treasure, or in other words, was still her boyfriend.
Tracy began to hint to Steve that she liked his number. Steve would always smile and fall silent instead of responding to her. He realized what Tracy was hinting at. She liked him, and she wanted to wear his jersey instead of Treasure. Tracy was slowly but surely wearing Steve down.
After their third game, which was played at their home field, Tracy noticed him walking home by himself. Steve’s friends had remained behind to watch the older boys play.
Tracy debated whether she would talk to him or not. It was still early that Saturday afternoon, and his girlfriend, Treasure, was nowhere to be found. Once Tracy decided that she would, she left Jantel and ran off to catch up to him.
“Hi, ‘Stevie.’ Are you going home already?” she asked him from behind.
Steve was as brown as Tracy’s brother Jason, and his low haircut made his perfectly rounded head look like a well-roasted peanut. He held his Wilson helmet in his hand.
“Yeah,” he told Tracy with a smile. Tracy’s assertiveness made him seem bashful.
“Why?” she asked him.
“Because, I have a homework assignment to do. I have a science project that I have to turn in on Monday.”
“Oh,” Tracy perked, remembering that Steve attended an advanced private school. Yet she failed to believe that he was that dedicated to doing homework on a Saturday. “Walk me home, Steve. Please,” she responded to him.
Steve resisted her. “Well, I wanna finish my project today, so I can watch football tomorrow. The Eagles are playing Dallas,” he told her.
Tracy grabbed onto his arm. “Aw, come on, Stevie. Please. I don’t live that far.”
Steve let out another bashful smile. “Okay.”
Dag, that was easy, Tracy thought to herself. She had expected to do more begging.
“So you still go with Treasure?” she asked him as they began to walk.
“I don’t know,” Steve answered. Treasure had not been paying him much attention after the second game. She didn’t even wear his jersey anymore.
“Well, do you still like her?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He sounded like he had said it out of obligation.
Tracy pressed him, smiling in her blue and gold uniform. “Do you like me?”
Steve grinned and said, “Yeah.”
I got him! Tracy told herself. She giggled, filled with self-assurance. He had given her the confidence she needed, and Tracy was set to go for the kill.
“Let me see your helmet,” she said, reaching out for it.
Steve gave it right to her. Tracy took it and smiled. She then accidentally dropped it on the ground while trying to hold it erect. Steve picked it up and made sure it wasn’t broken.
Tr
acy felt embarrassed by her clumsiness. “I’m sorry,” she told him.
“Don’t worry about that. This is a good helmet,” Steve responded. He beat on it with his right hand and said, “See?”
Tracy looked at him with sparkling hazel eyes as the sunlight hit them dead on. Steve shied away to avoid their magnetism.
Tracy could tell that he was nervous. “So are you gonna quit Treasure and go with me, Stevie?” she asked him bluntly. She could tell that Steve was a pushover.
He hunched his shoulders, still not looking Tracy in those scary eyes of hers. “I don’t care.”
“Well, can I hold your jersey? I’ll wash it for you and everything,” Tracy told him excitedly.
Steve wanted to say “no,” but he couldn’t overcome Tracy’s persistence. “Yeah, you can hold it,” he said, reluctantly, “but don’t mess it up. And don’t lose it, either.”
He took his blue jersey, with gold numbers trimmed in white, right off of his back.
“Thank you, Stevie. You so nice,” Tracy cheered, pinching his brown cheeks.
Steve cracked another smile.
Tracy then jumped onto his back, turning him into a horse. “Give me a piggy-back ride.”
“Okay,” he agreed, straining to carry her weight. “Let me put my helmet back on first.”
“Okay. I live right up the street,” she lied to him. She actually lived two blocks up.
Tracy smacked Steve on his helmet as he walked with her on his shoulders about halfway to the corner before putting her back down.
“Why you stop?”
“Because my back is hurting.”
“Aw, boy, I thought you was a strong running back,” Tracy huffed at him, disappointed.
“You can’t tackle me,” Steve said, teasing her.
Tracy retorted, “I don’t wanna tackle you.” She expected for Steve to get angry and stand his ground after a while, but he was already under her spell.
“Tracy, I have to go home now. Okay?” he told her, once they had reached her house.
Tracy rolled her eyes at him. “NO! I didn’t say you could go home yet.”
Steve pleaded, “I have to though. I have something to do.”
“Well, go ahead then. See if I care, boy,” Tracy warned him, childishly.
Tracy was dying for Steve to reject her so she could at least have a challenge. But he simply couldn’t. Tracy was too much for him.
“All right, I’ll stay,” he whined.
Tracy made Steve sit out on her steps while they played with her little brother until the sun started to go down. After realizing that her daughter was holding the boy hostage, Patti finally sent Steve home. Tracy then walked him to the corner and punched him in the arm. Steve told her he could take it and walked away giggling.
Tracy skipped back up the block, pleased with how easy it was to twist Steve around her pinky-finger. “I can make him do whatever I want,” she said to herself with a devilish grin.
A black Mustang convertible pulled up to the curb as Tracy walked back to her steps. Out jumped Mercedes. Tracy had not seen Mercedes since she had left home, more than two years ago.
“Look, I’m just going in to see my mother for a few minutes,” she said to the young man sitting behind the wheel in sunglasses.
“Aw’ight, I’ll be back,” he said. He pumped up the volume on his car’s radio and speeded up the street.
Mercedes walked to the steps and spotted Tracy smiling at her. “Hey, girlfriend, how you been doin’?” she asked. She hugged Tracy and backed away to see how tall she was getting. “Damn, you’re getting big, girl. You gon’ be able to hang out with the old-heads soon.”
Tracy blushed as she looked Mercedes over. Mercedes wore black designer shoes with a matching pocketbook and a blue leather skirt with a multi-colored sweater. Her neck was dripping with gold, and she wore huge gold earrings that shone in the dark. Her hair was fabulous and asymmetric. Mercedes looked gorgeous, like a teenage movie star who had returned for a visit home.
“Where you get those earrings?” Tracy asked her.
“My boyfriend bought them for me. But how you been, Tracy?”
Tracy was stunned. She practically forgot everything that she wanted to tell Mercedes. She was too wrapped up in Mercedes’ outfit, the car, the boyfriend and the glamour. “That was a decent car he had,” she commented, impressed.
Mercedes responded with a smile, “I know. Ain’t that car smooth, girl? Well, look, my old man ain’t in the house, is he?”
“No. Mr. Keith works overtime now, just like my father.”
“Good, ’cause I came to see my mother right quick.”
Tracy was astounded as she continued to observe. Mercedes entered her house with her old key. Her mother was watching television when she walked in.
“Hey, mom, how’s life been treating you?” Mercedes perked.
Beth was shocked. “Girl, it’s about time you came up here to see your mother! It’s so dag-gone far, going all the way down South Philly.”
They hugged each other and took a seat. Mercedes immediately pulled out a pack of Newports from the Gucci purse inside of her pocketbook. She lit one up and started to smoke without even asking her mother if she would mind.
Raheema came down from her room, saw Mercedes and frowned. She didn’t see what Tracy saw. Raheema’s idea of success was totally different. Mercedes was still just a teenager to Raheema, a teenager trying to be a grown-up.
Mercedes ignored her sister’s glare.
“When you start smoking?” Beth asked her.
Mercedes lied, “Like last year, sometime.”
“That stuff leads to cancer,” her mother told her as she fanned the smoke from in front of her.
Mercedes took another puff. “Look, mom, I ain’t come over here to be lectured.”
“Well, leave then. Nobody wants you back here anyway!” Raheema shouted at her. She headed back up the steps and went to her room. “She got some nerve!” she mumbled to herself as she slammed her bedroom door. “She just thinks she can come back here and do what she wants. I hate her! She ain’t nobody.”
Mercedes felt slightly annoyed by this. She decided that she would leave sooner than she had expected. Raheema’s still acting like a big-ass kid! she snapped to herself. She needs to grow the hell up! This is my God-damned life, and I’ll live the way I wanna fuckin’ live!
“Where you goin’?” Beth asked, as her oldest daughter stood up in haste.
“I’m gettin’ up out of here, mom. I see I’m not welcome anymore.”
Beth said, “Let me tell you a few things before you leave. Now you may think you got them streets and all, but that’s a life for losers. So please screw your head back on and do the right thing.”
“And what’s the right thing, mom, to move back in here with y’all?” Mercedes asked, sourly.
Her mother was speechless. That’s what you need to do, Beth thought to herself. But it was no use in trying to advise Mercedes. It would have been a waste of breath.
Mercedes walked out the door. The young man wearing sunglasses was parked and drinking a soda. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” she told him.
Mercedes threw her head back against the black leather interior. Her friend then revved up his sporty black Mustang. They left listening to Kurtis Blow as her mother shut the door.
Two teenaged girls went to sleep that night with different thoughts on Mercedes. To Raheema, her older sister was still a monster, but to Tracy, Mercedes had become a star. Raheema vowed that she would never be anything like her, while Tracy planned to try her best to emulate Mercedes’ glamorous style.
“Did you quit her yet?” Tracy asked Steve before practice.
“Yeah, I told her last night.”
“Well, how come you didn’t call me?”
“Because, you didn’t give me your phone number yet.”
“Oh, well, I’ll give it to you one day,” Tracy said, walking away from him.
“Did you was
h my jersey?” Steve asked her, following close behind.
“Yup. I’m gonna wear it to school tomorrow,” she told him.
Tracy walked over to where a few of the cheerleaders had gathered and heard Steve’s ex-girlfriend, Treasure, talking about her.
“Tracy thinks she’s it, and I didn’t want Steve anyway.”
“If you got somethin’ to say, then say it to my face, girl,” Tracy challenged her.
“I didn’t say nothin’ to you,” Treasure responded, backing down.
“Yes you did. I heard you. I’m not deaf. How you gon’ sit up here and lie to me?”
The girls gathered around, expecting a fight.
Treasure said, “Well, you can have Steve if you want him, because I don’t.”
Steve hunched his shoulders. What did I do? he thought to himself in a panic.
“Yeah, you just mad because I took him,” Tracy commented.
Treasured stepped away, still mouthing, “Like I said, you can have him. He ain’t nobody.”
The heat cooled off when the cheering coach started them off practicing their drills. Tracy thought about what Treasure had said during practice, and felt cheated, like she had bought a loaf of stale bread. She debated Treasure’s comments. Was Treasure simply jealous, or was Steve just a flunky?
Tracy began to mess up her cheers as the other girls snickered at her. They didn’t seem to care much that she “went with” the most popular player on the team. Then again, Steve was not popular on the streets like other boys were; he was only a running back. No one paid any attention to him after the game was over. Everyone would shake Steve’s hand and talk about him during the game, but after that, Steve was pretty much a loner.
With the confusion over Steve on her mind, practice became much longer and harder for Tracy. After a team meeting, the boys were excused from practice earlier than the cheerleading team, so they all walked over to watch the girls. For the first time that season, Tracy could see who the best-looking players were while their helmets were off.
Steve was not all that cute compared to some other boys. It was up in the air as to whether or not Tracy should drop him. A lot of players look better than him, she told herself. Nevertheless, Tracy decided to hold on to him for a while. Steve still scored the most touchdowns.
