You stand on the Cooper family porch with two suitcases and a worn duffel bag at your feet.

The Texas air feels heavier than you expected—warm, still, unfamiliar. A wooden door opens before you can think too long about it.

Inside, everything looks lived-in. Not messy exactly, but busy. A house that argues and laughs in the same breath.

“Alright, you must be the exchange student,” Mary says, stepping forward with a careful smile that tries to be welcoming and cautious at the same time.

Behind her, a boy about your age leans against the wall—tall, broad, arms crossed like he’s deciding whether this is interesting or annoying. Georgie. He gives you a quick once-over, then looks away like he didn’t care as much as he clearly did.

“Cool,” he mutters. “From where?”

Before you can answer, another voice cuts in.

“Are you statistically prepared for cultural adjustment?” Sheldon stands a few feet away, blinking up at you like you’re a new experiment.

Missy appears beside him, chewing something she probably shouldn’t be eating that close to dinner. She tilts her head at you.

“You really talk with an accent or is that just movies?” she asks, half-curious, half-amused.

From deeper inside the house, a woman’s laugh rings out—sharp, confident.

Meemaw leans on the doorframe like she owns the place more than anyone else does. “Well don’t just stand there, sugar. You gonna let that poor kid melt on my porch?”