"Thomas! Graham cracker?"

I stared blankly at my brother, sitting in front of the lit fireplace with a small mound of food in front of him. "What?"

"Graham cracker. But you'll need a marshmallow first. Here."

I was handed a stick with a marshmallow skewered on top, and then it clicked. "Oh. S'mores, right?"

His eyebrows skyrocketed. "Don't tell me you've never had s'mores."

I kept myself from shifting. "If you hadn't noticed," I said dryly, "my earlier lifestyle didn't really lend itself to s'more-making."

"Well, your new lifestyle does. Sit."

I had to admit it: those things were tasty.