You Give Me Fever || Michael Jackson

Chapter 41: Perfect

December 12, 1992

It's only a couple days before the vacation to Italy now, and I'm really excited. Knowing Jasper and Charlie are coming just makes it even more fun!

We're packing a lot now. I'm seven months pregnant, and I'm a little self-conscious about the way I look.

But whenever I brooch the subject with Michael, he simply pecks my lips and tells me how beautiful I am.

But because I can never take a compliment, I say the same sentence I always do:

"Whatever you say, Michael."

Michael is currently on a natural high. He's been saying how great his life is, and how lucky he really is.

"Life is perfect, nothing can make me sad, nothing can hurt me," he says every single day.

He's had nothing to do with Lisa since she came and told us she had an abortion. I can't say I'm mad with her for what she did, and before you have a go at me, I have logic.

She didn't know Michael wanted the baby, so she thought it was pointless to keep it. It wasn't her fault we never told her sooner about what we planned to do - if anything, Michael's sort of to blame... and me.

But I haven't told Michael how I feel, cos I feel like he will hate me if I say I don't blame Lisa. After how he reacted on Halloween, the last thing I wanna do is tell him I don't blame the one person he hates for it.

Right now, I'm in the bathroom, with Michael downstairs. I'm not sure why I'm in here, really... I'm not doing anything in particular.

I'm just sort of... staring into the mirror, at my stomach - more precisely, my bump.

I know it's not here to make me look ugly, but I kinda can't help but feel ugly with it.

My feelings are so cliché. I've read all the stories with pregnant women who feel ugly, and their partners assure them that they're beautiful. Happens in every love story - but I didn't realise it was possible to feel like this for real. I thought it was just made up.

We still don't know the gender of the baby - we've kept it a surprise this entire seven months. Michael is so excited to find out the gender of the baby - and I admit, I am, too.

It's gonna be a beautiful child - especially since it's related to Michael.

"Hmm..." I sigh as I stare at my very large reflection. "Yep, Miss Summers, you is very ugly today! Great job!"

I click my tongue and point at myself in the mirror, trying to act gangster, and I bring my face closer to the mirror, to see myself a little clearer.

My breath steams up the glass, and I draw a pair of glasses and position my head so it looks like I'm wearing them.

"Hmm, sexy with glasses, are we? I'll add that to the list of things that make Miss Summers sexy for sure!" I hear Michael's voice behind me.

I chuckle to myself and turn around to see him in the doorway. Letting out a sigh, I approach him and lean my head against his chest, and he embraces me.

"Whatever you say, Michael."

"Hell, yeah! That sentence is on the list, too!" Michael grins. "So how's my sweetheart today?"

"Your sweetheart is ugly," I answer sadly.

"My sweetheart is beautiful," he assures me.

I cringe and pull away from him. "Ugh, Michael! You're so cliché!"

Letting out a laugh, he bites his lip to control his amusement. "Oh, I know! But if cliché is the truth, then I'm happy to speak cliché-ishly."