Zee and Mya had barely dried off from the pool when Mya turned to him, towel around her shoulders, with that look in her eyes — the one Zee knew meant: “We’re going out.”

“Clothing store,” she said suddenly, tossing her damp hair into a messy bun.

Zee blinked. “Now?”

“Yes! We’ve been in Africa and the pool — I need something cute to wear tonight.”

Zee groaned dramatically but stood up anyway. “Fine. But I get to choose one thing you have to wear, no matter how ridiculous it is.”

“Oh really?” Mya raised an eyebrow. “Challenge accepted. But same goes for you.”

Ten minutes later, they were strolling into a trendy little boutique downtown — the kind with indie music playing softly, racks of color-coordinated outfits, and mannequins that somehow looked cooler than actual people. A girl at the front greeted them with a “Hi! Let me know if you need anything,” which Mya responded to with her usual: “Thanks! We’ll probably try on the whole store.”

Zee made a beeline for the men’s graphic tees, flipping through rows of oversized, artsy designs.

“Why does this one have a frog breakdancing on a toaster?” he muttered.

“Why doesn’t yours?” Mya shot back, holding up a pink crop top with glittery letters that read: “Main Character Energy.”

Zee raised his eyebrows. “Wear that and you’ll blind everyone in a five-mile radius.”

“That’s the goal,” she said smugly, tossing it over her arm.

They split up for a bit — Mya bouncing between rompers and cargo skirts, Zee trying to find something that wasn’t “dad-vibes.” But of course, they ended up in the fitting rooms side by side, tossing clothes over the top of the door like it was a fashion warzone.

Mya poked her head out first, wearing a plaid skirt, white sneakers, and a hoodie three sizes too big. “Rate it.”

“9 outta 10,” Zee nodded, pretending to take notes. “But you lose a point because you’re not wearing the frog shirt.”

She tossed a sock at him.

When it was Zee’s turn, he stepped out wearing a yellow button-up with bananas all over it and shorts that looked like they belonged on a cruise ship dad.

Mya doubled over laughing.

“You look like someone who gives out sunscreen samples for a living!”

“You said I had to wear what you picked,” he said proudly. “And I commit to the bit.”

They tried on five more outfits each, eventually narrowing down their favorites. Mya ended up buying the “Main Character Energy” top after all, along with a cute sage green dress. Zee grabbed a minimalist hoodie and — yes — the frog-on-a-toaster tee, just to make her laugh again.

At checkout, the cashier smiled at them like she could tell they were the kind of couple who made shopping fun. Zee slid his card while Mya swayed beside him, humming along to the music.

As they left the store, paper bags in hand and still giggling over the banana shirt, Mya linked her arm with Zee’s.

“See?” she said. “This was way better than staying home.”

Zee smiled. “Yeah, yeah. But next time, we’re going to the tech store.”

“Only if you wear the banana shirt again.”