Hey Mr. Werewolf, Will You Stop Chasing Me?

Hey Mr. Werewolf, will you stop chasing me? - Chapter Two

Hey Mr. Werewolf, will you stop chasing me?

Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved

Chapter Two
Picture on the side is Zoey (Actress Leighton Meester)

"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 tilt to the ground similar to a domino when tipped over  and finally landing on the floor with a loud thud.

Ow! That hurt like a mother!

"Happy Birthday, Kellie boo!"

Groaning, I stared up to a familiar pair of dark brown eyes that she inherited from our mother.

My baby sister, Zoey.

"Ugh, Zoey bee!" I whined, trying to pry her off. She was hugging me like a boa constrictor and I was having a hard time breathing. "You're cutting off my air supply! Do you want your sexy brother to die?"

"Oops!" she giggled, letting me go, but still straddling me on my waist area. "So, how does it feel to be eighteen, bro?" she asked excitedly.

I shrugged. "It's okay, I guess."

She rolled her eyes then grinned. "Are you excited to find your mate?"

I laughed a little. Trust Zoey to ask that question. After all, she was the first one to be mated out of us two though she was sixteen and I swear, it was weird seeing her lip locking with my best friend, Marcus. The memory of Marcus' eighteen birthday still sent unwanted shivers down my spine.

Eeww with the capital E.

"Well, if it isn't the birthday boy."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

I looked over Zoey's shoulder and saw a grinning Marcus, looking as idiotic as ever. We had been friends since we were six years old and the boy loved his mexican food, especially tacos. He was tall, around six-foot-two, hefty on the muscles (it's a wolf thing buddy), always sporting the disheveled look on his dark brown hair and for the gooey part, as Zoey would like to describe his piercing pale blue eyes, it made her shiver all the way down south.

I didn't want to imagine what she meant about the shivering part... Disgusting.

With a big smile on her face, Zoey lifted herself off of me and bounded straight to Marcus, who was just as happy to see her. She lifted her tip toes and placed a chaste kiss on his lips and then another and then it went into full on makeout. God, am I always going to witness their gooeyness? Spare me, but then again, they would soon witness a lot more than what they have when I meet my destined one. Mark my words, it's going to be epically mushy.