He takes a triumphant sip of coffee. As usual, he looks luminescent, practically humming with energy. There are few people in this world who need coffee less than Simon does. “I told the girls to knock quietly. Did they do an okay job?”

“Yeah.” I’m starting to worry the Morgans think I only know a handful of words. Yep. Nope. Yeah. Okay. But I can’t seem to muster up more than that, especially not with Simon. He’s open and friendly, and while I get why that’s great in theory, it feels a bit intimidating in practice. He’s invited me to exactly ninety outings since I arrived, all of which involve me engaging in some sort of physical coordination. Also, what the hell is pickleball?

The back door opens, and Emma’s voice makes my spine straighten. “Simon?”

“In here. Mason’s eating breakfast.”

Emma steps in, bringing a rush of summer humidity with her. She’s wearing her flip-flops again and yet another oversize T-shirt. Her wardrobe doesn’t seem to have a lot of range, which normally is something I can respect, but I hate that all those T-shirts show her wrist. “Morning, guys,” she says, setting down a bunch of plastic grocery bags. I see my requested deodorant sticking out of the top and a wave of dread passes over me for the interaction that is going to have to happen for me to acquire said sad stick of deodorant. I hate this place with the heat of Venus and Mercury put together.

“Cinnamon roll?” Simon asks her.

She shudders slightly. “Way too early for that. Is there any coffee?”

Simon gestures to the counter, where a fresh pot is brewing. It looks like actual heaven. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Can I have some?” They both turn and look at me, probably stunned to hear me utter a full sentence.

“Oh… I don’t think kids are supposed to—” Simon starts.

“Black or with cream and sugar?” Emma interrupts, glancing at my barely touched cinnamon roll.

“Cream,” I say. She fills me an enormous cup, then grabs a carton of half-and-half from the fridge and sets it in front of me. As soon as Simon turns his back, she casually whisks away my plate of sugary horror and sets it in the sink.