The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Mysterious Bad Boy Is Hairy A.F

"Okayden McHuman, you magnificent son of a nice lady," says Lit. Col. Fuches, taking his glasses off with dramatic flair. "You come crawling back another year, eh? Once a maggot, always a maggot." 

Okayden's arm hairs stood on ends almost instantaneously, making that weird leathery noise you hear in old-timey horror movies where the werewolf is just some dude with the connective pubes of the cast superglue to his skin. You know the one. 

"Autumn leaves gently fall down;" he begins to say, or growl, mostly, for that voice comes from within the deepest reaches of his windpipe, "and so, the promise of change; and also, fuck off, perv."

Well, he's got quite a mouth there. Literally. Row upon rows of teeth, like a shark made out of kitchen knives, from ear to ear on a thin line. His mouth smelled like cabbage, oddly enough. 

"Okay...then," says Fuches as he puts his glasses back on, only to remove them again for dramatic effect. "Just because you earned the right to do whatever you want in my class doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class, maggot! What are you, Hayden? God, look at those glutes, as if made by Hephaestus himself. You can bounce a quarter off that butt."

Okayden takes one massive step forward, way past me, and grabs a ball from the ground. It looks like a pebble in his hand. 

"Do you even hear that; the nonsense spewing from your mouth; 

You bag of old dicks?

If a brother needs; I shall ever be there for him; short shorts suck, you dick."

Okay...then. This kid has something against shorts. I can respect his groove. I mostly don't want people to see my magnum dong being hot-dog in short shorts. I already convinced everyone I have a micropenis, and that would mean not having an excuse to bail out of everything. Hey, that's an idea!

"Hey, sir," I say, trying to defuse the situation. "I have a micropenis." 

"Omg!" I hear Laila from the bleachers. "See? I told you he told me that. But I don't care I still want him so soft so broken ugh."

"I told you he was the bottom to Hayden's top," replies Leeland. "But now, Okayden is trying to steal him by defending Ayden from Hayden! A love triangle. Ugh, I wanna have a love triangle. And of course, it has to be with Hayden's rival, the only one who has managed to win against him in dodgeball ugh."

The plot thickens, I suppose. I don't have enough energy to correct them. Let's just get this over wi-

"Yo, I didn't lose!" screams Hayden, taking everyone's attention. He walks over to where we are with lumbering steps, only slightly mitigated by the squeezing sounds of his shoes on the basketball court. "That oversized rat kept dodging my balls left and right. I couldn't pin him down, the sneaky bastard. But today, I'm gonna smash my big, meaty, coarse balls all over that face of yours." 

Oh, shit. Whatever Leeland said stuck a nerve with Hayden. He, being a natural-born bad-boy Jock was surely hit right in the pride. The jock, being one of the most common bad-boy archetypes, has many natural enemies. The artistic bad-boy, the new kid bad-boy, and the Christian-kid-who-changes-him-by-the-power-of-praying bad-boy kid, to name a few. 

But there is only one that can get under their skin like any other, and that's the nerdy bad-boy. The one that doesn't fit, the outcast, the renegade. They are natural enemies, like cats and dogs, or cats and mice, or cats and birds, or cats and being and wanting to get married. And a tall, hairy kid who only speaks in haikus must've put Hayden over the edge. Him, lose to a nerd? One cannot fight their nature that easily. 

Bad boys are cats, using sheer instinct and adorable features to be assholes that people think can be tamed, but, like, nah. You don't own a cat — a cat owns you. Same with bad boys.