The next morning, I got Michael up and told him I was taking him somewhere special for his birthday. He smiled and agreed. I got ready, and he got dressed.

"So, where are we going today?" He asked as we walked out of the hotel and towards his car.

"It's a surprise," I smiled at him. He rolled his eyes, probably knowing that I would say that. I love surprises, but he doesn't love them as much as I do.

"Please, just tell me," he begged. I shook my head no.

"No, I'm not telling you. But first, I need to stop at Paris's. She also said that she wanted to talk to you about something," I told him, starting the plan, "She probably wants to wish you a happy birthday or give you a present, maybe."

"Okay," he shrugged. I refocused my eyes on the road and drove towards Paris's house. Michael didn't seem to suspect anything which was good. I wanted him to be surprised.

I realized that it was about two-thirty. Paris told me not to be there until two-forty-five, and it would only take five minutes to get to her house. I turned down a street, no longer going towards Paris's house.

"Michael, do you know where the nearest, like, grocery store is?" I asked him, but he didn't know. I drove towards a place that Paris had told me about when I was staying with her once.

"What do you need at a grocery store? And why right now?" Michael seemed confused, but I came up with a quick story.

"I just remembered I was running low on what you'd call 'feminine hygiene products'.." I explained, mentally scolding myself for not choosing a different story. I pulled in at a large grocery store and got out of the car.

"Oh.. Okay," he stayed seated in the car as I quickly walked into the store. I knew I had to buy something, or else he wouldn't believe me, and he would get suspicious.

I tried to stall while in the store. I walked up and down the pad and tampon aisles, just looking. I got a few stares from some women who watched me pass them in the aisles over and over again.

I finally realized it was about two-forty, so I grabbed a box of tampons and walked up to the checkout counter. There was a man about my age at the cashier. That's just great.

"Is this all you need today, ma'am?" He asked.

Annoyed, I responded, "Yes."

He rung the box up, gave me a small bag, and I paid. Walking out of the store, I was embarrassed. Why couldn't I have picked a different checkout line? There was judgment written all over that man's face. I hated it.

"Are you okay now?" Michael asked as I got back into the car and threw the bag in the backseat.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Now, we'll go to Paris's then leave for where we're going," I told him, starting the car back up.

"Can't we go to Paris's after we go to the place we're going? Are we closer to that place now?"

"No, we're not. Paris's house is actually on the way to the place we're going," I lied. Paris's house was the place we were going to.

I drove off towards Paris's house, and we got there within about seven minutes. It was then past two-forty-five, and I was glad. They would be ready.

I parked in her driveway and stopped the car. I saw her turn the lights off, and I silently giggled to myself. She had to have everything perfect, and it was funny.

Michael got out of the car, and we both walked up to the front door. I knocked a few times, which was a habit. I stood back and let Michael open the door. I acted confused when we saw that the lights weren't on. I turned them on, and everyone jumped out and yelled, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY MICHAEL GORDON CLIFFORD!"

"Happy Birthday, Mikey," I smiled at him when he look down and to his right at me.

"Thank you, guys," he laughed a little. He then asked me, "Is this why you had to stop at the grocery store? Were you stalling?"

"Maybe," I laughed, "I was, totally. While stalling and walking up and down the aisles, I got stares. I was also judged by the male cashier who was ringing up the box of tampons that I don't even need. But I needed to give them more time to finish setting this up," I explained.

"Thank you babe," he chuckled, "I love you."

"I love you too," I smiled, and whispered, "Happy nineteenth birthday. We'll have to celebrate together later.."

"Definitely," he smirked, nodding.

Michael went around and talked to everyone at the party. I smiled while watching him walk around. I really loved him, and I couldn't get over the fact that I was cheating on him.

"So are you excited that Michael is nineteen? He's only a year younger than you now," Paris pointed out.

"He's always been a year and a half younger than me, Paris," I laughed, "It's just that his age is one less than mine from November 20th to May 24th, the day before my birthday."

"Okay. Whatever, smarty pants," she scoffed, joking around.

We walked into Paris's kitchen, and there was a cake in there. We sang to Michael, and his face was hilarious while we were singing. It was so awkward for him. Everyone got a piece of cake, and Michael walked over to me.

"So this is where we were going today? We aren't going anywhere else, right?" He asked, "There aren't any more surprises?"

"Well, we are taking you to a club tonight," I told him, smiling. He didn't seem too excited, and I wondered why.