Panic set in. I dashed to the nearest bakery, only to find they didn’t have chocolate fudge cakes left. After calling three other places and coming up empty, I settled for the last thing I could find: a plain vanilla sheet cake with “Happy Birthday” scribbled on top in blue icing. “Close enough,” I thought, convincing myself that it was better than nothing.

I rushed to Sarah’s house, cake in hand, just as the party was starting. Everyone looked fantastic in their 80s outfits, from neon leg warmers to oversized blazers. I placed the cake on the table, hoping it would blend in with the rest of the party snacks.

Everything seemed fine until it was time for Sarah to blow out the candles. She took one look at the cake, paused, and then burst out laughing. Confused, I looked down at the cake again—only to realize the bakery had written “Happy Birthday Steve” instead of Sarah. I’d been so flustered, I hadn’t even noticed.

The room erupted in laughter, and Sarah said, “I guess Steve’s crashing my party, huh?” As it turned out, Sarah thought it was hilarious and spent the rest of the night joking about her new “alter ego.” Everyone joined in, even taking selfies with the cake.

Although it wasn’t the chocolate fudge masterpiece she’d hoped for, the cake became the centerpiece of the party. In the end, my forgetfulness didn’t ruin anything—it actually made the night more memorable. To this day, Sarah and our friends still call me “Steve” whenever we reminisce about that party.