It was a quiet afternoon in the Kalogeras house, which was rare.

No music blasting. No Demitra yelling at her phone. No Eliana filming a TikTok in the living room mirror. Just peaceful silence. Jake, 15, sat hunched at the kitchen table, a half-eaten granola bar in one hand and a math worksheet in the other. He stared at the paper like it had personally offended him.

“Bro… what even is this?” he muttered, flipping between pages like the answer would magically appear.

From the other room, his 22-year-old sister Sunday walked by, wearing an oversized sweater and biker shorts, sipping on some iced coffee like she lived in a Pinterest board. Jake looked up.

“Sunday?” he called out.

She turned, lifting a brow. “What.”

“I need help with my homework,” he said, holding up the disaster of a worksheet. “It’s like… algebra or something. Or calculus. I don’t even know.”

Sunday dramatically groaned, then dragged her fuzzy slides across the floor toward him. “Where’s Demitra?”

“Out.”

“Eliana?”

“Also out. You’re my only hope.”

She flopped into the chair next to him, slid her coffee aside, and leaned over his worksheet. “Okay, let’s see this nonsense. What is this, shapes? Are they still teaching shapes? Didn’t we cover triangles in, like, preschool?”

Jake blinked. “It’s geometry.”

“Same thing,” she waved him off, twirling her hair. “Okay, so what’s the question?”

He pointed.

Sunday squinted. “Uh-huh. Find the hypotenuse? You find the hypotenuse. Why do I have to find the hypotenuse?”

Jake just gave her a look.

She sighed, cracking her knuckles dramatically. “Fine. Let’s do this. But if I help you, you owe me a Starbucks run. Like, minimum a venti.”

“Deal,” he said quickly.

“Cool,” she said, then leaned in closer, tapping the problem with her nail. “Alright, so… you’re gonna do Pythagorean theorem—do you even know what that is?”

“No,” Jake said flatly.

“Okay, then buckle up, nerd,” Sunday smirked, “because I’m about to school you.”

And for the next half hour, she did — with sass, with flair, and with more “you better be writing this down” than actual math terms. But by the end of it, Jake kinda got it. Sorta.

“Thanks,” he muttered when they were done.

Sunday smirked. “You’re welcome. Now go get your wallet. Venti pink drink, extra ice. Chop chop, genius.”