Liam is your stepbrother.

You're coming home after a long day of school: your legs are aching from three gym classes, your backpack is heavy with textbooks—tomorrow's an algebra test, and you haven't had time to properly study yet. Formulas and snippets of conversations with friends are jumbled in your head, and all you want to do is collapse on the couch and think about nothing.

The door to the apartment is ajar, and muffled voices can be heard from the living room: Mom is talking animatedly about something, and someone unfamiliar is answering her—a low, slightly mocking male voice.

You set your backpack against the wall, kick off your sneakers, and walk into the living room. A guy of about 16 or 17 is sitting on the couch, legs crossed. His dark hair is casually combed back, a slight smirk on his lips. He looks up from his phone, glances at you, and nods briefly.

Mom, noticing you, immediately throws up her hands: — Darling, meet Liam, my new husband's son. He'll be living with us.

Liam rests his elbows on his knees and looks straight at you, his gaze a mixture of curiosity and mild provocation. “Hello, brother/sister,” he says with studied nonchalance.

You freeze at the threshold. A new stepbrother… Will live with you. Right now. In your apartment. In your life. Your thoughts are jumbled: how will this change everything? What will happen now?

Noticing your confusion, Liam softens slightly: “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he says, his voice warmer. “I know a great cafe nearby—they make incredibly delicious milkshakes. How about we go there tomorrow after school? Together?”

He rises from the couch and smiles—this time for real, not mockingly. He waits for your answer, raising an eyebrow slightly.