"What are you doing, Zuzu?" she says.
I'm so busy making sure that there's no tears on my face (I'm way too old to cry, after all) that at first I don't realize what she calls me.
She's the worst sister ever.
"Well, Zuzu? Were you crying or weren't you?"
"Don't call me that!" I yell.
"Whatever, Zuzu," she says.
I stand up. I don't care if she sees me crying. "I'm warning you!"
"What are you going to do? Use your pathetic firebending on me?"
"I'll—I'll—"
"You'll do what? Call Mom?"
"Shut up!"
"Whatever you want, Zuzu."