I saw Tracie the first time while she was jumping rope, as I half stumbled my way to morning class. Asking a few of my dorm mates, I found out Tracie ran track and played on the volleyball team.
This was great news!
My attraction to athletic girls had just gone into overdrive, so Tracie was burned instantly into my memory. In high school, I was stupid enough to think girls who played sports didn't care about sex. In college I learned the truth. I got to know girls who played basketball, volleyball, lacrosse and soccer. They were very interested in men. Except the soccer players.
I started noticing Tracie everywhere. She turned out to a friend of a lot of my friends. Tracie also transferred into my English composition class, impressing everyone with an essay about growing up with a white father and black mother in Venice, Italy. I'd walk with Tracie to her next class after English, trying to get some idea of her relationship status.
When Tracie showed up alone for the girl's lacrosse team fundraiser party, I thought that was a very good or very bad development.
When I finally caught up with her, Tracie was a little buzzed, as was I and everyone else present. She was having an animated debate with a few of the 800 pound gorillas that comprised our football team about the possibility of woman defeating a man in combat.
Tracie was holding her own, having just beaten one of the blockheads in arm wrestling. The guys loudly claimed Tracie was lucky.
"Luck? Shit! That's strength!" Tracie declared and flexed her bicep. Her brown skin bulged noticeably as her muscle tensed.
"You couldn't fight a guy and win!"
The voice belonged to Holly, the blond girlfriend of an undetermined number of football team members.
Tracie stared back sharply at Holly.
"I could."
The expressionless certainty of Tracie's answer silenced the jocks. A grin went across Tracie's face. "I could fight any one of you simples..." Tracie swigged the remains of her beer and brought the bottle down on the table with a hollow "clank."
"..right now!"
Awed silence engulfed the room before the blond elbowed the guy next to her.
"No way!" he blurted, not even facing the blond. "I don't fight women."
He glanced at the idiot next to him, as if to ask "and you?" triggering a panicked chain reaction of glances and grunts that ended with the place kicker.
"What about him?" the kicker asked, pointing at me.
"What about you, Jeff?" asked Tracie, stepping toward me; a cue to the others to clear out the furniture. "Would you fight a girl?"
I looked at Tracie's sleek legs and smooth, muscular arms as my hands slowly drew into fists.
"Yeah, I would..." which was in total contradiction of how I'd been acting all my life.
"I can't fight these jackasses, Jeff. I could hurt them!"
Tracie's voice was lower, soothing almost affectionate. "But you can fight me and we can have some fun!"
That was all I needed. I had my hands raised in the best imitation of a boxing stance I could conjure. Tracie stifled a laugh and put up her fists.
I made the opening shots at Tracie. She shrugged them off and took her time responding.
"I'm going to put on a show for the guys before I knock you out," Tracie whispered. Then she opened up on me.
Fists landed all over me, concentrating on my mid section and chest, trying to wear me down. I began fading quickly and when Tracie saw me starting to slip, her punches became more precise.
With no training or experience in boxing, I did what came natural: the stupid thing. I went after Tracie, landing a few more punches. Her responses were swift and precise, dodging two of my swingers and then slugging me on the jaw.
Before I recognized what Tracie was doing she had forced me into a corner. The jocks and the blond gathered around me, cheering Tracie on.
All I saw were Tracie's fists hammering away. A hard right cross tagged my chin and I felt myself sag downward. How did I get in this? was one of my last coherent thoughts and even that one was fuzzy.
Tracie delivered a gut shot and heard her say something but my drifting mind never captured it. I thought much I loved strong girls.
A punch came at me. Reality was shut off.
I slide to the floor, dipping into the relief of darkness.
I was out cold for five minutes. The blond gave me the ten count and then she and Tracie carried me to the nearby couch. Tracie stayed with me until I completely recovered.
Tracie and I dated for the next two years, until she went home to Venice to see her ailing parents. I never saw Tracie again.
