The Adventures Of An Aromantic Asshole (In A Shockingly Cliché World)

Chapter 1 | Bark Bark Beagle Boy

Werewolf Cliché Part 1

It was a chill day.

Well, morning.

Actually, it was a shit morning. Because it was a morning. On a Monday.

So, it was a shit Monday morning and the weather was beautiful. One of those days where you really don't want to go to school, but rather go out and pretend to enjoy nature and the sunshine. So that was what I decided to do. On my way to school, I did a 180 in the middle of a stride and walked back from the way I came. 

Turned a couple of corners, passed a couple of classmates and thereby received a couple of disappointed looks. They probably wanted to do the same. Everybody hates Monday mornings, no matter how nice the sun feels or how the birds chirp. Breathing in heavy gulps of the summer air I walked into the local park. There were almost no people there, except a few students laying around being lazy teenagers, and a couple of old-timers playing chess. 

I threw my backpack into the air and caught it again. I repeated this about a dozen times, making it spin in all directions, too restless to figure out what to do. I didn't really feel like laying down in the 'dewy' grass and get stains on my jeans, so I just kinda stood around looking at nothing. And out of nowhere, I got the feeling that something idiotic was about to happen.

Let's just say I have never regretted doing a 180 as much before.

I saw a blue pickup truck slowly rolling down the road, and I followed it out of the corner of my eye. It came to a halt with a screech. It was a total corpse of a car. A car-corpse. A carpse. Out of the carpse jumped three young dudes all wearing flannel. 

So much flannel. 

I think the amount of flannel was doing something weird to one of them because it seemed he started sniffing the air as he looked in every direction. An old well-known feeling came creeping up on me as I knew where he would look next.

One more sniff. Head turned towards me. Eye-contact. Fuckin' bingo.

At this point, I began feeling like the main character of some cliché Wattpad story, so I decided to get the hell outta dodge. I wasn't interested in what Sniffers here was looking at me for, so I turned my heel for the second time that morning.

I heard a growl behind me. 

"Mate." 

Something grabbed me. That something being a black haired, blue eyed, slightly too tan, offender of flannel. A young man with some quite attractive features, and some quite appalling manners. AKA, Sniffers. 

I had no idea how he managed to cover that distance between us in like two seconds. He locked his gaze on mine, and yet another growl erupted from his throat. Like a full on growl. Like a dog-kinda-growl. 

Not a big dog, though, like a beagle. A medium-sized dog. Quite a pathetic growl, actually. 

"Uh?" I lifted an eyebrow, "Kangaroo?"

The growling stopped. A second went by.

"What?" He asked.

The rest of the Power Puff Flannel Squad came walking up behind him.

"What? Boomerang? Marmite?" I continued, "Bottle-o? I don't... what do you want me to respond to that?"

Sniffers looked at the others. They looked even more confused. 

"Australian? You Australian? You don't sound Austrailian," I shook his hand off my arm, "Well I guess they say 'mate' in the UK as well, but I dunno. You don't sound like it."