Hey Mister Werewolf, Will You Stop Chasing Me?

"Go, go , go shawty, it's yo birthday. We gon' party like it's yo birthday," I rapped, bobbing my head as I went down the stairs heading for the kitchen. I swear 50 cent's "In the club" is like a birthday anthem to every birthday boy or girl out there. It never got old and the words, although gibberish as they sound, were the perfect picture of how it was exactly to celebrate a birthday with style. As I reached downstairs, I went full on ghetto doing the 'yo! yo!' hand and body gestures. "We gon' sip Bacardi like it's your birthday. And you know we don't give a fuck, it's not your birthday!" 50 cent should be so proud of me. Hell, we should do a record together. I got the moves, my rapping was flawless and believe me, I was made for fame. While I was so into my gangster mantra, I hadn't noticed someone launched themselves at me like a freaking stampede of rhinos, causing me to tilt to the ground similar to a domino when tipped over and finally landing on the floor with a loud thu

Rejected. Denied. Jilted. Ditched. Familiar words in the vocabulary all held the same definition, but unfamiliar for the likes of a man such as myself who had everything: power, good looks and money. I've seen people get their hearts broken, boy or girl, by my own doing or not. And yet, my conscience couldn't make me feel guilty since I find it amusing how they cry and do reckless things all in the name of love. In my experience, I may have said 'I love you' to a girl too callously just to get in her pants, but I couldn't see the value of such words. In fact, the words were a loose term, as though giving a freebie or giving a candy to a kid. Love, in my world, was entirely a game that most of us gamble to win without having your heart put on the line, not facing the consequences of losing everything and having your heart burned to the fiery pits of hell. And here comes Karma. A five-letter word that centered on different beliefs and cultures, and yet spoke volumes. Karma ref

"Hey, Keller," a sickeningly sweet and at the same time irritating familiar voice purred, imitating a kitten. More like a dying cat. I rolled my eyes and opened my locker. "Go away, Jenna," I said while getting the stuff I needed for my morning classes. "I'm not in the mood for your games." "I heard your mate denied you." I wasn't surprised that Jenna knew. Hell, the entire pack knew about my rejection. Throughout the weekend they had been giving me pity stares and that oh-you-poor-thing look from the grown-ups, but I made it seem like I was not affected. I was soon to be Alpha and showing weakness is a no-no. With Jenna, however, I wasn't in the mood for her “I told you so” lecture. She would only bask in her gloating, at how right she was at the very beginning, and I had a very strong gut feeling she would stalk me until I gave in to her whims. Too bad, Jenna. Not fucking happening. As I finis