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saw Rasim.
                  Now everything she went through made sense.
                  God had brought her there to meet him.

CHAPTER 3
    RASIM
     
    Rasim, Chance and Brooklyn illegally occupied the room of ten girls. Basically, they were going through their personal shit. Unfortunately, all of the girls were at a Wellness Seminar meant to advise them on protected sex and STDs and the friends took full advantage of their absence.
    The boys were not even supposed to be in the Girls’ Wing. Their hall was on the opposite end of the building. But Rasim and his friends did everything but follow the rules.
    Brooklyn sat on a bottom bunk examining the insides of a red duffle bag. “Look at this shit,” he yelled holding a rubber dick in the air. “This bitch horny as shit.” He tossed it to the floor and proceeded to pilfer. He was low-key mad that women had a toy to satisfy their needs. Where was his portable pussy?
    “Who is that again?” Chance asked with sly eyes while looking down at the rubber ding-dong. Why trouble with a fake when he held the real thing? So he wanted her name so that he could attempt to dick her down later. He was standing in front of the bed going through a ripped black suitcase on the top bunk. The clinic cured him of Chlamydia and now he was ready to use his new stick.
    “The bitch with the big nose and sores around her mouth,” Brooklyn advised, pointing at his own nostrils. “You don’t want that.” He shook his head in disgust. “Trust me.”
    He could speak for himself. Chance pulled up her face in his mental Rolodex and was determined to have his stick in her mouth before the night’s end.
    “You better get that shit checked out first,” Rasim said going through a blue suitcase across the room. “I saw you scratching your joint earlier today.”
    “Fuck you looking at my dick for?” Chance laughed.
    “Nigga, you was standing next to me while I was killing mothafuckas in Spades. You don’t remember that shit?”
    “You better watch that nigga reference,” Brooklyn joked while pointing at him. “We can protect you when you’re with us but you could get your shit cracked if you dolo.” He focused back on the bag. “Remember, youngin’, you brown, not black.”
    “It’s the same thing,” Chance interrupted as he picked up another bag. The other didn’t yield any benefits. “If you ain’t white, you fall in the same category. Nigga.”
    While they joked on one another, Rasim went into his heart. It troubled him that his heritage was often the topic of discussion. Truthfully, although he was Pakistani, he was often confused with Indian or Hawaiian people. His features could be mistaken for any number of races.
    Eventually Rasim brushed the shit off his shoulders when he found five dollars in a bag. He tucked it in his pocket and moved to the next duffle when Brooklyn yelled, “Ain’t these old ass mothafuckas the parents of the girl who came today?” He was clutching a picture of Lamont and Maureen Bradshaw in his paws. A baby blue duffle bag belonging to Snow sat at his feet.
    Snow’s parents rode up to the center after she was registered.
    Rasim stared at the picture and said, “Yeah, that’s them.” He returned his focus to the bag he was robbing. Besides, the girl was cute, really cute, but she didn’t talk. She roamed around like a mummy and it crept him out.
    “You better watch that chick,” Brooklyn quipped as he eyed Rasim. “She be staring at you like she gonna eat you alive. She may be a cannibal and shit.”
    “Who you talking about?” Chance questioned. “Church girl?”
    “Yep.”
    Chance nodded when he recalled her hazel eyes, big breasts and pretty face. “I’m telling you now, if you don’t hit that I will. Flat butt and all. That’s on my mother’s heart.”
    The three of them laughed because it was true. Snow was a looker. The only thing that messed Snow up in her own opinion was that although she had a pretty