Uh-oh. I had never been formally introduced to Sandy before, so I had no idea what her reaction was going to be. It was a week before Christmas, and I was currently in between semesters no in college. I hadn't seen my boyfriend Brian since October, so when I got a phone call from him the day I moved back home, I was psyched. He offered to fly me down to Florida to see him. Brian and I met last year when I got a job as a back-up dancer for one of his music videos. Brian was a member of a popular pop group known as the Backstreet Boys. Even though I missed Brian, to reunion between Nick and I was more emotional because we hadn't seen eachother for nearly a year, and we had grown to be good friends, writing e-mails to eachother and calling one another.

Thankfully, Sandy seemed to be good-natured about it all. She grabbed the gooey stuff from her auborn wavy hair and hurled it back at me.

Nick jumped up and down and pumped his fists into the air, and slapped Sandy a high-five. "Right in the kisser--alr..."

Before Nick could finish Howie Durough, another member of the group, had already sent over a piece of salami from the finger-foods table. It landed with a nasty sounding splat on Nick's cheek.

Nick's voice cracked as he reached to grab the slimy piece of meat.

Seizing the moment, I grabbed a goblet of pudding and attempted to dump it into his mouth, only I wasn't quick enough. Nick grabbed my wrist and heaved the substance into my face. The next thing I knew I was wearing the chocolate. Determined not to let him beat me at the game, I grabbed some more pudding, and carefully maintaining eye contact with him, I dumped the contents into his baggy pants.

"You idiot!" he screeched.

"Oh God!" I looked around and located Brian "save me!" I said dramatically as I ran to him. Brian picked me up and darted into Nick's living room.

"Sanctuary!" he said grandly, knowing that even Nick wouldn't dare allow the late evening food fight to leave the confines of his dining room.

To our suprise Nick hadn't followed us.

"What the hell?" we heard him cry out. "Man--I think you guys better come and take a look at this!"

Brian set me down and we carefully made our way into the dining room again. In his hands Nick held the day's paper.

On the cover was a picture of Nick's ex-girlfriend (whom he had dated three weeks) in tears.

"When are they going to leave me alone?" he asked no one in particular.

Throughout the past year, Nick had been the victim of the "American poperazi." They couldn't give him a break. I took a look at the journalists name.

"You know Nick, if you want I can go to the Tampa Time's office and have a talk with this woman," I looked closer at the article, "Debra Coy." I finished.

Out of habit, Nick ran his hands through his hair, accidently smearing Jell-O and pudding through his locks. "Let's go!" He said.

"Nick!" I grabbed his sleeve.

"Hon, I think a good shower is on order!" I giggled as I swiped a fingerful of pudding from his cheek.