After a full hour of pranking half the mall, Jake figured they’d finally get to actually shop for something fun—maybe hit up the sports store, the gaming shop, or at least grab another soda. But no. Esli had other plans.

“We have to go to American Eagle,” she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him toward the store like she was on a mission from the fashion gods. “I need a new top. Or maybe jeans. Or both.”

Jake groaned. “Can’t you just grab something real quick?”

Esli turned to him with the most dramatic expression. “Real quick? Jake, fashion is a process. You don’t rush greatness.”

So now he was slouched on one of those little wooden benches outside the changing rooms—half-bored, half-zoning out—watching people walk by while Esli vanished into the abyss of outfit options. Every few minutes she’d pop out in something new.

“What about this?” she asked, stepping out in a cream-colored top.

“Looks like the last one,” Jake mumbled.

“Ugh! You’re useless,” Esli huffed, spinning back inside.

Ten minutes later, she came out in a pair of wide-leg jeans. “Okay this one I actually like. But what top goes with it—wait—I need to try the green tank again with the jacket!”

Jake sighed so hard the lady behind the counter laughed.

“You doing okay there, champ?” she asked.

“I’ve been held hostage by denim,” Jake replied.

Finally, nearly an hour later, Esli strutted out holding one top, two pairs of jeans, and a giant smile like she just finished a runway show. “Okay! I’m done!”

Jake stood up with fake creaky legs. “Oh my gosh, freedom!”

“Hey,” Esli said, bumping him with her shoulder, “you love me. You’d wait forever.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You owe me. I want food. And I get to pick where.”

“Deal,” she said with a grin, “as long as it’s not that weird burrito place again.”