The Problem with Cake

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Carter

Okay, I'll admit it.

I'm a bit of a mama's boy. Which is why I found myself at home the day of my birthday instead of doing what I really wanted to; eating endless amounts of pizza, drinking beer and spending the night with Harper.

I suppose that happens naturally when you are not only the only son, but the only child as well. As close as I was to my dad, my mom was the one that I strived to be better for, and hated to disappointed- although, let's be real, I kind of sucked in that department.

It seemed like trouble always had a way of finding me, wither it was breaking someone's window when I was playing baseball in the backyard when I was younger, or getting caught taking their car out before I had my license, or when they found out I would hide those awful progress reports before they had a chance to read them.

Not to mention the numerous times I've been caught in compromising position with a girl. Which, let me tell you, is just as awkward the fifth time as it is the first time.

I remember when I was twelve, my parents were going to a movie with Charlotte's and decided that us kids could stay home alone, so we were all hanging out over at their house. We started playing tag, and things were going fine until Charlotte skidded on a rug, crashed into a table in the hallway, and knocked over a crystal vase.

I didn't personally think it was a big deal, but the look on her parents faces told me it was. It turned out to be some anniversary gift, and they were really upset.

Charlotte's parents were one second away from grounding her, and she was opening her mouth to confess, when I found myself taking the blame.

No one even looked surprised.

That's when I knew, I would always be that kid.

"Happy Birthday sweetie," mom said, interrupting my thoughts as she placed down a light brown pizza box in front of me. I knew immediately it was from Little Tony's, home of my favorite pizza.

"Thanks mom," I told her as I opened the box, pulling out the biggest slice. There is always one slice that is bigger than the rest.

She smacked the back of my head. "Use a plate please."

"You know mom," I said with a mouth full of pizza, "I don't use any plates in my dorm room."

She groaned and shook her head at me. "I can only imagine how it looks," she cringed at the thought. "Then again, I don't think I want to."

I took a sip of the chocolate milk she placed down in front of me. Yeah, yeah, I know, drinking chocolate milk with pizza sounds disgusting, but it's actually pretty good.

"It's not as bad as my bedroom was. It's on the verge of being clean even."

She looked slightly surprised. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Plus, you know that girls appreciate a clean room…" she paused, giving me a look in which I always referred to as the 'mom look'. "Wait a second… is there a girl appreciating your clean room?"

I practically shoved half of the pizza into my mouth. "I don't know what you are talking about."

She placed her hands on her hips and gave me a knowing smile. "So what is her name? When do I get to meet her?"

If only she was aware that she already knew her. Really well.

I looked up into her curious eyes and excited smile, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to tell her. For some reason, the idea that I was actually being serious with someone was making her so happy, and I knew once she knew the identity of the mystery girl, she would be even happier.

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