The cake felt as if it was about to fall. I realized how stupid it was to bake a cake for my boyfriend, but what the hell? Who really cares? He opened the door, helping me with the cake, smiling. No one was here yet. No one as in Heather and Jordan.
"Happy birthday!" I said kissing him.
He smiled when we both pulled back. I rubbed my shoulders, realizing I still had my coat on. He helped me out of it. I handed him the bag which held his present.
"You shouldn't have," he said peering in. I smiled.
"But," he said smirking, "this wasn't quite what I was hoping for."
I was confused. I had gotten him the wrong present? He grabbed my waist pulling me close to him. He held me tightly, his fingers running across my hips.
"What do you want?" I whispered. A devious smile had formed on my face. I placed my arms around his neck, kissing him until Jordan and Heather rang the doorbell. I wiped my mouth, seating myself on the black leather couch, fixing my jeans. Mickey answered the door. It wasn't Heather or Jordan. Amber was standing there, wearing a red dress that came 5 inches above her knees. The v-neck scoop was so low that it seemed it was about to fall off. Her heels were about 6 inches, which made her go up to Mickey's brow.
"It's cold outside," she said putting her hands on her shoulders, squeezing her chest.
"You should've wore a jacket, bitch," I said under my breath.
She smiled at Mickey. Her baby bump was gone, her boobs bigger than they were before, her body curvy.
Mickey shook his head, still a little dazed. Anger/jealousy swam through my body as if they were fish in the ocean.
"What are you doing here?" Mickey said, his voice more dazed than surprised or angry.
"It's your birthday, baby. How could I forget it?"
BABY? WTF? I wanted to kill her. How many times do I feel like doing that? Well, she kept her baby, that's one thing. She is a HA-UGE slut, and she's hitting on MY boyfriend. MY Mickey.
Mickey let her in, blinking quickly, like he does when he's nervous. I sat on the couch, cross-legged, my arms folded across my chest. I didn't want to make a scene, but I could feel the hatred and tears all coming to my eyes. Mickey was on the love seat, Amber right across on the single-seater. They were talking. Me in the middle. Feeling alone. I knew Mickey hadn't meant for this happen. But how could he help it? Amber was like a slutty siren. Only, she didn't eat Mickey. (His flesh anyway. I really don't wanna know what she wants to do with him "alone")
They talked, until Amber moved to the love seat beside Mickey and started whispering in his ear. He smiled, but then suddenly realizing I was there, he stopped. He noticed my angry expression, but heart hurting, it beating so fast it seemed as if it would burst.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart," I said standing up, grabbing my coat and walking out his door.