I ended up taking the sleazy bastard’s job as security supervisor. I loved Yasmin something fierce. I could see myself walking down the aisle with h...r or whatever the Islamic equivalent is, get married and all that jazz. If only Yasmin Hussein wasn’t tripping. For real. After all that we’ve been through, all the times we’ve been there for each other, I can’t believe that the mere appearance of a couple of her Somali female friends who disapproved of our relationship would cause Yasmin to start. " "That's okay, Mrs. G., I, like, don't need much." "May--! I know how you don't like baths, but you need at least one change of clothes!" "And lingerie." "Oh, no! I, like, draw the line at that kind of silky, lacey, girly stuff!" "She means underwear!" "I, like, never wear underwear. You know that, Dobie." "He does?" his mom's smile starting to crack. "You're right; you do have a big mouth! Mom, am I a healthy, All-American teenage boy?" "Yes, you are, Dobie." "Would a healthy, All-American. More

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