It was one of those rare Saturday afternoons where neither of you had plans—no school, no chores, no family stuff. So you and Esli, your 13-year-old little sister, decided to hit the mall together. It had been her idea, obviously. “Let’s go to the mall,” she’d said dramatically, already pulling on her sneakers. “I need to save our lives with retail therapy.”

The mall was buzzing like always—neon signs flashing, food court packed, music pumping out of every store like it was a mini concert. Esli immediately made a beeline toward her favorite clothing store. “We’re going in,” she declared, grabbing your wrist like it was life or death.

You followed her into a swirl of crop tops, pastel sweaters, and too many mirrors. She started flipping through the racks like she was on a mission. “Okay, so I’m looking for something cute but casual but also like—Instagram worthy,” she said, holding up a tiny denim jacket.

“You already have like five jackets,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but not this one.” She smirked. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Eventually, you sat on one of the little boyfriend chairs by the fitting rooms, phone in hand while Esli tried on outfit after outfit. Every few minutes she’d pop out and strike a goofy pose. “What about this one?” she asked, twirling in a purple skirt.

“Looks like something from a 2000s Disney Channel show,” you replied with a grin.

“So… perfect?” she said, and disappeared back inside.

After what felt like a year, she settled on two outfits and declared she was starving. You made your way to the food court, where she ordered a boba tea and a slice of pizza, and you got a burrito. Sitting across from each other, you both dug into your food while people-watching.

“That couple has been standing at that menu for ten minutes,” Esli whispered, sipping her boba.

You laughed. “They’re probably fighting in code.”

After lunch, you stopped by the tech store where you finally got your turn to browse. Esli rolled her eyes the whole time. “Why are you staring at keyboards? You don’t even game.”

“I like the colors,” you defended.

“Cringe,” she said with a fake gag, then smiled. “But low-key kind of cool.”

Before heading out, you stopped by the photo booth near the arcade. Esli stuffed in a $5 bill and pulled you in without warning. “We’re doing this,” she said, poking your cheek. “Look cute.”

You made stupid faces, peace signs, and one halfway decent smiling shot. When the strip printed out, she grabbed it and stuffed it in her tote. “Memory secured.”

Walking back to the car, Esli linked her arm through yours. “Today was actually fun,” she admitted.

“Don’t get all emotional,” you teased.

“I’m not,” she said, even though she was grinning. “Just saying… you’re not the worst big brother.”