Authors: T. Styles
Tags: #African American, #General, #Fiction
Rasim, Brooklyn and Chance were in their room
talking about the recent trip home Rasim was granted. This one was for the books.
It had been a little over a month since the first time he had sex with Snow and it had been happening repeatedly ever since. But now that Rasim had his first experience, he took to flinging his dick around like he was a kid and it was a brand new sword.
His latest conquest?
While it was true that sex with Snow was as special as hugging a newborn baby, simply put, the pretty Latina knew how to fuck. Selena sucked, licked, scratched and sexed Rasim into oblivion the entire weekend he was home on a pass. And just like young teenage boys do, he thought it would be a good idea to brag. Besides, all three of them had their way with Selena and they needed to compare notes.
Even though conversations about fucking Selena were free, he never said a word about his sexual exploits with Snow. That was none of their fucking business.
Brooklyn and Chance planted themselves in the middle of the floor like oak trees as they anticipated the details. They wore sneaky grins on their faces as they were yanked back into the moment when they too had Selena.
With the proper audience in play, scrawny Rasim placed his hands in front of him like he was holding the girl’s waist and was sexing her from the back. “So I had her like this, right,” he moved his hips back and forth in a foolish manner. “And she was like, ‘More, more, Papi. Your dick so big. Your dick so fat.’”
“She did me like that too,” Brooklyn contributed, barely able to remain still.
“I’m telling you that shit was so tight and wet,” Rasim continued as he snatched the mic and regained control of the floor. “So I smacked her ass and was like—”
When Brooklyn and Chance’s expressions changed from delight to alarm suddenly, Rasim wondered what horror awaited him. When he followed their gaze with a slow roll of his head toward the door, he was staring into the hazel browns of the love of his young life…Snow.
Snow was rooted in her position as tears filled the wells of her eyes and threatened to drown her on the spot. She loved Rasim with all that God had given her. Her body. Her mind. And her soul. Why did he require more?
Humiliated beyond belief, her bottom lip twitched as she turned to make an exit. Unlike when she left Morris’s closet, this time Snow caught wheels as she sped away with what was left of her broken heart.
Rasim, on the other hand, was stuck. His limbs were stiff and the beat of his heart could be seen through the black Polo shirt he donned. His mouth stayed open and his nose burned. He was breathing so heavily he was on the verge of overheating. He could even feel himself wanting to weep although he would never allow such a graceful act in front of his compadres.
Instead, he flopped down on Southeast Brian’s bed even though he didn’t play that shit on his own bed, and threw his face into his hands.
He fucked up.
It was official.
Snow Bradshaw had left the building.
Rasim did all he could to conduct a search party to locate her but nothing worked. He even tried to sneak into Ms. Brush Face’s office to get Snow’s address and got caught. She cursed him out with fifty different words, most of them in Spanish. But she liked the young boy, which was the only reason she didn’t give him a harsh punishment. Besides, even a woman with a face like hers understood real love. She just wasn’t prepared to lose her job for him.
Although Rasim conducted his investigation, he did it without alerting his homies. He wanted them to think that he couldn’t care less that Snow had kicked rocks. Even though both bore witness to the mental breakdown he exhibited when he was caught.
Fuck he want with a Church Girl when he had access to Selena and Queen, who just sucked his dick after music class earlier that day? He was Rasim Nami, a player, nothing more and nothing less.
He was good on the love shit, he told them in several meetings, even though he wanted to talk about Snow during every free chance he got. But all he spoke were lies.
With each day that passed where he didn’t see his beautiful Snow, he lost a bit of his mind. He lost a little bit of his heart and even a few pounds he couldn’t spare.
Finally, on the second week, Brooklyn and Chance couldn’t take it anymore. Rasim had taken to staying in his bedroom and looking at the pictures he’d taken of Snow while she was there. It was a sad spectacle to behold and even a few hardened delinquents had to get away from Rasim for fear they’d shed a noble tear.
No, Brooklyn and Chance had to stop their friend’s pain at once. In a private meeting, they elected to either help him or kill him and put him out of his misery. Luckily for Rasim, they chose the first option.
With a decision in place, Chance decided to ask Mute Candy for Snow’s address. But she cursed him out so badly he was five seconds from saying fuck Snow and her mother too.
When he acquainted Brooklyn with her poor manners, he didn’t believe him. He figured a mute couldn’t possibly be as bad as Chance made out and he decided to give it a whirl. But true to his word, he received exactly what Chance got. High-flying hands and a wide mouth, which was horrifying although void of sound.
The duo was right. Snow had shared information with her but Mute Candy had no intentions on helping any of the varlets. She did not approve of how Rasim treated her friend and she expressed it using her body language and passion.
It was true. Mute Candy didn’t say a word. Then again, she didn’t need to.
After Mute Candy’s wrath, in another attempt to restore their brother’s heart, who made them laugh daily, it was time to step up their game. So they placed a laxative in Ms. Brush Face’s coffee, which sent her to the Porcelain God for two days straight, thereby giving them full access to her office.
When they had the information they needed, they approached Rasim from the back as he sat in the cafeteria looking stupid. It wasn’t even lunchtime.
“Rasim, you good?” Brooklyn asked already knowing the answer. He and Chance perched next to him.
“I’m straight,” he said as he stared into space. The poor lad was overcome with grief.
Chance couldn’t take it anymore. Although Brooklyn preferred to drag shit out by withholding details, he reached into his pocket, removed a small white sheet of paper and slid Snow’s information toward him across the table.
Rasim didn’t bother to look at it. He was uninterested. “What is it?”
“Snow’s address. Now go get your bitch.”
Snow leaned against her mother’s warm arm as she listened to the preacher conduct his powerful sermon from the pulpit.
A sad cloud hovered over the Bradshaw family that was for sure.
Maureen clutched her daughter’s warm hand as if she were recharging her with all of the love she lost while at Strawberry Meadows. By the grace of God, Snow was allowed an early release because of her pregnancy and it felt good to be around her parents and their strength.
Maureen didn’t know what was troubling Snow, neither did her father for that matter, but they made it clear that they had her back. And that even if the world attempted to besiege her, there would always be love for Snow in their home.
If the truth be told, then this also must be said. Lamont was a religious man who, when he announced he loved the Lord, meant it with every fiber of his being. But, he would just as soon commit mass homicide if anybody shaved a hair on gentle Snow’s head and then await his chariot to hell.
Besides, the agony they felt having to take Snow to an abortion clinic was enormous. They essentially assisted in the murder of their first grandchild and they weren’t feeling it one bit. But Snow had big dreams and she felt a child might get in the way. Moreover, after hearing Rasim carry on about another girl, she didn’t want to birth his baby anyway. He never even said he loved her.
In that way, Snow was stronger than most teenagers her age who would have carried the baby just to keep a connection with its father.
Had it not been for the fact that Snow said the young man didn’t know about her pregnancy, Lamont would’ve hit it to Strawberry Meadows ‘70s Gangster style.
The strategy would’ve been quite simple really. He would’ve yanked the boy out of the home by way of his vocal cords, placed a
barrel to his head and demonstrated how quickly it
up. And all anybody watching could say would be, “Poor Rasim”.
Luckily for Rasim, that was unnecessary, for when Lamont gazed into Snow’s eyes he knew she was in love. And for a doting father, for the moment anyway, that would simply have to do.
When Rasim’s beautiful face infiltrated Snow’s mind again her heart ached,
. It was like some weird contractions that made it difficult to breathe. Was she having a heart attack? Was she about to die? Why was she forced to see his face disappear and reappear as if on repeat?
It hurt too fucking much!
Make it stop!
Frustrated, she slammed her eyes shut and tried to push the pain away from her spirit. Placing her free hand over her chest, she demanded that either God bring him back to her at once, or strike any existence of him from her mind.
Oh the pain!
It was pure agony and yet that was not a strong enough word.
All Snow could do was relinquish power over to God and allow Him to heal her. Loving Rasim was not strong enough to overcome the soreness of losing him. She didn’t want to feel this type of suffering again.
With her lids still closed, she felt her body trembling at volcanic levels. She was about to cry and beg the preacher to lay hands on her soul when suddenly someone lifted her hand and gripped it tightly.
Was it God? Did He come down Himself to save her life? To heal her broken heart?
Slowly Snow’s eyes peeled open and Rasim was staring at her. He had also been given an early release as long as his father promised to guide his path. Why, at that very moment Mr. Nami stood in back of the church as a testament of his support.
Snow blinked a few times because this could not be real. If it were an evil joke, she would not be able to survive afterwards.
But if it was real…if he was really there, what a beautiful way to heal her broken heart.
Snow wasn’t the only one looking at the young man. He had also stolen Lamont and Maureen’s attention. Each of them held a pocket full of choice words with his name on it but now was not the time or place to make the delivery. The young man made an intelligent move by reentering their daughter’s world in the house of the Lord and for now he would maintain the stage and his life.
Rasim, who didn’t place a toenail in the mosque in Strawberry Meadows, walked into the Baptist church for his precious Snow. Even Slack Jaw Morris had to clutch his collared shirt because the love in Rasim’s eyes was so strong.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as a single tear rolled down his cheek. He didn’t care how soft he looked at the moment. He didn’t care what people watching thought of him either. He would not live another day without Snow Bradshaw in his life. “I apologize for hurting your feelings. But I’m begging you not to leave me.” He gripped her hand harder to the point of creating pain. “Please, baby. Please forgive me and give me one more chance. I love you.”
“I can’t do it,” she shook her head. “It’s too hard.”
Rasim was horrified upon hearing her response. He hadn’t expected her answer. “One more chance is all I ask. Just one. Isn’t it worth it for the sake of love?”
Flooded with love, she wrapped her arms around his slender body and squeezed tightly. Her nose rested in the pit of his neck and she inhaled his cologne.
He was her man.
He was her Rasim.
Through no fault of their own, they had successfully gained the audience of the faculty, usher board and congregation.
But who cared?
They were in love.
And they would forever be entwined.
But a dark cloud was coming to test their love, for which they were not prepared.
Alf Herman sat in the wooden chair in the foyer in awe. The story of how they met was so inspiring that even he got emotional. But still, he couldn’t understand why he was sitting in the middle of the living room watching blood drip from the Officer’s body. He wasn’t moving as much as he had been and Alf was concerned.
“Your story is inspiring,” he yelled to be heard beyond the doors. “So I take it that you are Rasim.”
“And who is the man on the steps bleeding?”
“We haven’t finished telling you the story,” Snow interrupted.
“My apologies.” He moved uncomfortably in his seat and observed the police officer again. “It’s just that time is not on our side. A man is dying.”
She giggled. “People kill me with that statement.” She paused. “That time is not on our side. Time is a beautiful thing actually. It gives men an opportunity to correct that which is wrong. It offers them a chance to stop hurting those they claim to love. But for me, it did so much more.”
“What do you mean?” Alf Herman replied.
“Rasim always wanted to rule but my heart wasn’t a big enough country. He had to have it all. He had to sit on the throne even if it meant wasting his time on places or people unworthy. All while ignoring me in the process.” She paused. “It’s funny though. Because I knew something he didn’t.”
“And what’s that?”
“That even the mighty fall.”