The mall was busy as usual, buzzing with noise—kids dragging parents into toy stores, music blasting from every corner, and the smell of food court fries drifting through the air. Jake, 17, walked beside his 16-year-old sister, Suri, who was totally in her element.

She wore high-waisted jeans and a black crop top, casually confident as she led the way through the crowd, her shopping list already half-formed in her head.

“We’re definitely hitting Zara first,” she said, glancing back at Jake. “Then I need to find new mascara at Sephora. You good with that?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just here for moral support. And pretzels.”

Suri rolled her eyes, smirking. “You’re such a guy.”

They hit the stores one by one—Zara, Sephora, H&M. Jake trailed behind her through racks of clothes while she held up tops, asked for opinions, then ignored them half the time.

“How does this look?” she asked, holding up a green sweater.

“Like every other sweater you own,” Jake replied.

She shoved him lightly. “Okay rude, but fair.”

In Sephora, Jake waited by the door while Suri swatched lip glosses on her hand. “You should try this one,” she said, holding up a shiny pink tube.

Jake gave her a blank stare. “Yeah, not really my shade.”

They grabbed drinks and sat near the fountain afterward, bags stacked around their feet. Suri sipped her iced matcha, leaning back. “Today was actually fun,” she said, looking at her brother.

Jake nodded. “Yeah, not bad. You didn’t even make me try on anything.”

“Next time,” she smirked.