You walked down the hallway holding your Chromebook under one arm, already annoyed that your history homework made absolutely zero sense. Berlin always helped you when school stuff got frustrating—she was weirdly good at making boring facts sound interesting, plus she never judged you for not getting it right away. So you figured she was just chilling in her room, probably in her sweats, scrolling on TikTok or yelling at her group chat.

But when you pushed open her bedroom door without knocking—like you always did—you froze.

Berlin was standing in front of her mirror, full glam mode activated. Lip gloss glistening. Blush brushed on perfectly. Hair curled like she was about to film a makeup commercial. And the wildest part? She was holding a red dress up to her body and smiling at herself like she was about to walk into some rom-com.

You stared. “Uh… what are you doing?”

She jumped a little, whipping around with the dress still in her hands. “Excuse you! Ever heard of knocking?”

“Ever heard of never talking to boys? What is this?”

She blinked, then tried to act casual. “I’m just… getting ready.”

“For what? A full glam FaceTime call with your lashes on?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I might be going out.”

“With who?!”

“None of your business, nosy.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely my business when you’re about to bring shame upon the family. Does Mom know? Does Dad?”

Berlin rolled her eyes and tossed the dress onto her bed. “It’s just a casual dinner, okay? You don’t need to sound like a Greek grandma right now.”

You stepped back dramatically. “So it is a date?! This cannot be allowed. Not in this household. Not under Zeus’s sky.”

She burst out laughing. “Okay, Socrates, calm down. It’s literally just one guy. He’s nice. We’ve been DMing.”

Your brain short-circuited. “You’ve been DMing a boy? You don’t even talk to boys! You roast them on TikTok!”

“Well, maybe I found one who isn’t a walking red flag.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Does he know how terrifying you are?”

Berlin grinned wickedly. “He’s about to.”

You paused, then raised your homework like a white flag. “Fine. Betray the family if you must. But at least help me finish my stupid paragraph about the Cold War first.”

She sighed but smiled, walking over and taking the laptop from you. “Only if you promise not to snitch to Mom.”

“No promises,” you muttered. “I might need leverage.”

She flicked your forehead. “And I might make you my makeup guinea pig next time.”

You groaned. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I’m fabulous. Now scoot. Let’s conquer history before I conquer this date.”