Jake groaned as he slid on his backpack, watching Layla tie her shoes at the door. “I still don’t get why they won’t just drive us. Like, hello? There’s literally a car in the driveway.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “They said it builds ‘character’ or whatever. You know, ‘siblings bonding,’ blah blah blah.”

Jake made a face and mimicked their mom’s voice. “‘You’ll cherish these walks when you’re older.’ Nah, I’ll cherish a ride and five more minutes of sleep.”

Their mom popped her head in from the kitchen. “Shoes on? Backpacks? Good. Now walk together—together, Jake. Don’t leave your sister behind again.”

Jake opened the door and muttered, “One time, and she acted like she got left in the Sahara.”

Layla punched his arm as they stepped outside. “You did leave me. You sped-walked like a psycho because you wanted to get to school early for pizza sticks.”

“They were fresh out of the oven, okay?” Jake said, holding up his hands like it was a serious matter.

The neighborhood was quiet, a light breeze rustling the trees. They started their usual route down the sidewalk, backpacks thumping against their backs.

“Let’s just agree,” Jake said. “We walk ten feet apart so people don’t think we actually like each other.”

Layla smirked. “You’re the one who needs the space. I don’t wanna be seen with a guy who still thinks Minecraft hoodies are fashion.”

Jake gasped. “Take that back. Minecraft is eternal.”

They kept walking, tossing jokes back and forth, arguing about whether Pop-Tarts count as breakfast, and dodging sprinklers on the edge of lawns. Despite the bickering, they stayed side-by-side the whole way—grumbling, roasting each other, but laughing just enough that it didn’t feel like a chore.

As the school building came into view, Jake sighed. “Another day, another five hours of pretending I know how math works.”

Layla nodded. “Let’s just survive till lunch.”

“And then pizza sticks?”

Layla snorted. “Only if you don’t ditch me this time.”