“Aaaaargh!” she screams. Not even trying to clean herself, Julia grasps a bowl full of whipped cream and slashes it in my direction, covering my entire torso in white slime. “I hate you!”

“You hate me? After what you did? Why?” I fling a saucer filled with cold gravy at her. A brown, shoulder-to-hip, gooey welt appears on her clothes. “Why would you do something so mean on purpose? What did I ever do to you?”

“You’ve always looked down on me!” Julia shrieks. “But now I realize you’re just a loser who spent the past two years drooling over her younger sister’s boyfriend. How pathetic is that?”

“At least I don’t think Paul is plain and boring and without imagination. And I’m not marrying someone only to spite my older sister. Now, that’s pathetic!”

“Is that what you really think of me?” a male voice asks.

Both our necks snap to the kitchen entrance, where Paul is staring at Julia with an unreadable expression on his face.

“No, of course not!” Julia hastens to say, panic written all over her face.

“And what about the rest?” I’ve never seen Paul so eerily calm. “Did you go out with me just to get back at her?”

“Paul, I can explain.” Julia wrings her dirty hands. “It’s not… I’m not…”

Paul lifts his hands to stop her. “I don’t want to hear it.” His gaze shifts to her clutched hands. “Keep the ring, take it off, I don’t care… We’re not getting married.”

Then he turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen.

“Paul, please.” Julia runs after him.

Two seconds later, the main door bangs shut. Julia reopens it and screams Paul’s name again and again, until everything goes quiet. She walks back into the kitchen, her tear-streaked face red and blotched, her hair wild, and her clothes all dirty from the food fight.

“He took the car.” Julia throws me a withering look. “I hope you’re happy now.” She looks like she’s about to add something, but a sob makes her whole body shake, and she runs up the stairs crying without sparing another look in my direction.

I stand in the kitchen breathing heavily, still shocked by everything I just learned. A blob of whipped cream slides down from my forehead to land on the island, reminding me I’m covered in food. I make a quick dash into the guest bathroom, removing my pants and sweater and washing the slime out of my hair and face the best I can. All the while, my brain keeps racing with contrasting thoughts.

Part of me thinks Julia got exactly what she deserved. She stole Paul from me willingly and knowingly, and now she deserves to suffer, to have her wedding canceled, to try being the single sister for a while and see how much she enjoys it. But there’s another, protective piece of me that feels guilty for what happened. That wants to fix the situation for her. No matter how or why her love story with Paul started, I know her feelings are real now. Julia’s stupid complaints are irrelevant; she didn’t mean any of them. She and Paul are perfect for each other. But taken out of context, the conversation Paul overheard could really ruin their relationship forever if not set right.