My phone hopped across my nightstand, buzzing and spasming with numerous texts. I groaned and rolled over, feeling the desire to smash it to pieces and go back to bed. Opening one tired eye, I expanded the array of text messages I had received within the last two minutes.

Ethan: u up? Rika wanted ur # ok?

Ethan: i sent. She need for some important mall

Unknown: I'll be waiting for you in the food court. Just look for the pretty girl with her hair in a ponytail! ~Rika

Unknown: Actually, I’ve got some shopping to do first. Shoot me a text when you arrive

Ethan: u up yet?

Ethan: im comin over to give u a lift so dont keep her waiting

Oh, no. The heavy patter of feet stomping up the stairs filled me with dread. My bedroom door was thrown open, my best friend crossing the threshold over to my bed.

I wrapped the blankets around myself tighter, knowing he was going to rip them away from me and force me to get up. “You’re a bastard…”

He wore a shit-eating grin while ruining my entire morning. “Rika took the bus, so I’ll pick both of you up when you’re done. Now, rise and shine!”

____________

It had been a while since I'd last come to the mall in South Creek. Being located on the border of a sprawling metropolis and our quaint town of Asheville gave this mall an unusual appearance. For all the freshly-paved lots and the expanse of the interconnected buildings, a dense splattering of trees around the structures provides a uniquely rural experience. This attracted a duality of crowds. There were the people from the city who got to go about their modern lifestyles with a nice rural backdrop, and the people from towns who got a nice taste of what the big city had to offer. A win-win for everybody involved. I refused to count myself, though, since I was forced here despite having no desire to leave the house this morning.

I plunged my hands into the pockets of my sweatshirt and took a random turn at the men's underwear display. Ethan had dropped me off at what I assumed to be one of the main entrances to the mall. I was reconsidering that now since I had seen nothing except clothes for the last few minutes. The downstairs wasn’t any better, being full of power tools and other gadgets whose names and purpose eluded me. Such a strange combination of wares seemed like it would somehow appeal to no one and everyone at the same time. As I dodged another crowd of oblivious patrons, I sent Rika a quick text letting her know I had arrived.

Since she was somewhere at the food court, I needed to make my way over there. The problem was I had no sense of direction. This huge open space, where signs were few and far between, did me no favors in that regard. Through sheer chance, I stumbled across a mounted map marking the places of interest within the mall. With my finger, I charted a path from where I stood to the food court, memorizing some of the landmarks along the way. The one saving grace was the path to the bookstore was a straight line, then a quick left.

I began my journey—continuing to dodge  the crowds, checking for landmarks, taking that left turn, and desperately trying to fix my windswept hair into something presentable. Everything except that last objective was accomplished by the time I arrived. The food court itself bustled with activities and sounds, from orders being shouted, free samples being offered, trays being slammed down, to the chatter of groups as they dined. Even without all these obvious signs, the smell alone would have alerted someone to where they were. My stomach growled in anticipation despite already eating breakfast.

Stupid stomach.

"Hey, over here!"

I stared at the girl with a ponytail flailing around on a bench and shouting my name. She was causing a scene, and other people were taking notice. Their whispered murmurs remained indistinguishable, but the raucous chuckles from the braver ones sold home the point. She was an embarrassment. The final nail in the coffin was when a little boy asked his mom what was wrong with her, only to be quietly reprimanded. I could feel my skin crawling, and their attention wasn't even focused on me yet. Still, the public shame did nothing to deter Rika, so I hurried over, hoping it would stop her and the onlookers would lose interest.

The girl popped up from the bench, donning her usual sweatshirt, with a shopping bag dangling from her wrist. "Finally, you're here. Where were you?"

"Trying to sleep. Now come on." I started walking in a random direction, figuring she'd get the cue to follow along.

"Alright, alright. No need to be so grumpy," she replied, matching my stride as the bag swung at her side.

"I didn't exactly agree to all this in the first place."

She hummed her acceptance, saying nothing otherwise. We passed by an apparel store and a pharmacy in silence until I took a stab at making small-talk. "Buy anything good?"

"Not really. It's private girl stuff though, so no peeking." She smirked at me mischievously. "You won't try to, right?"

My face heated up and I glanced off to the side. "Of course not!"

Rika snickered. "If you're sure. Anyway, do you have a place in mind?"

I shook my head, appreciative of the distraction from her teasing. "No idea."

"Stop for a minute." I did as she asked. "If you really have no clue where you're going, then you shouldn't be leading. Follow me."

I decided to go along with her request, deciding it wouldn’t be worth arguing that she also had no idea where to go. Hence, the whole reason I was dragged out here in the first place. "Sure, let's just get this over with."

She quirked an eyebrow in my direction. "You got somewhere to be?"

I couldn't tell her I wanted to work on my web novel. No, she'd torment me about it until the day I died. "I told my little sister that I'd help her with her homework."

It wasn't a complete lie either. She did ask for help. I only left out the part about how it would take like ten minutes tops to help her.

"Really? How old is she?"

"She's eleven."

"Do you have a picture of her?"

A picture? Why did she want to see a picture? Regardless, I pulled out my phone and swiped through my photo album. There's a good one with my mom, me, and her at the park that I paused on and showed Rika.

"Aw~, she's such a cutie! And here I stole her big brother away from her." Rika placed a finger to her chin. "I know. I'll get her a little gift as thanks for letting me borrow you for today."

I brushed her concern off. "You don't have to do that."

Laughing, she took a sharp right in front of an elderly vendor selling oversized stuffed animals from his stand. "You're right, I don't have to do anything, but I want to. Besides, I’ve got money to blow from my part-time job."

I quit objecting and continued to follow behind her. If that's how she wanted to spend her money, who was I to argue? It just seemed pointless to buy my sister something when she got nothing out of it. I mean, Rika didn’t even know her.

We passed a few more outlet stores before pausing in front of an eyeglass store. I hadn’t been paying attention to where we're going, more distracted by the aroma emanating from the food court than anything else, specifically the baked pretzels.

"Why're we stopping here?"

"Well"–she held open the door and ushered me in–"Ethan is always squinting, so I figured he could use some glasses."

"And you happen to know the type of prescription he would need? Or how expensive they are?"

"Crap. Didn't think of that." A sparse dusting of pink coats her cheeks. "But, since we're here anyway…"

She trailed off and went deeper into the store. In the back, near the counter, stood a display of glasses without prescription lenses patrons could try on to check out the different styles. She spun it around before deciding on a pair with circular frames. "These look a lot like the pair Chloe has. What'd ya think?" She twirled around, pushing the glasses up the bridge of her nose.

Adorable.

I shrugged. "They look fine on you."

"Thanks, but you gotta try these on. I think you'd look dashing in them."

Who the hell uses the word 'dashing?' Regardless, I accepted the glasses from her and shoved them onto my face. I glanced at a mirror on the counter and made some minor adjustments before turning to her for her opinion.

"Pfft!" She failed to hide the onslaught of snorts behind her closed fist. "Never mind. You look like a total dork!"

I ripped them off with a snarl. If you were just going to make fun of me, don't give me fake compliments. She kept giggling while doubled-over, barely maintaining her grip on her shopping bag. Her over-the-top display brought the attention of a nearby sales rep. With a courteous smile, the woman asked if there was anything she could do to be of assistance, but I told her we were fine. The fewer people involved in this madness, the better.

"Here," she said, recovering from her earlier fit. In her outstretched hand is another pair of glasses. "I promise these will look great on you."

Her promise meant very little to me. And by very little, I meant nothing. Still, I found myself taking the glasses and trying them on against my better judgment. When I flipped around this time, there was a blinding flash. "Hey, don't take pictures without people's permission."

"Why?" She blinked and tucked her phone into her back pocket. "Oh, I see. You're upset you didn't get a picture of me earlier. Don't worry, don't worry. I'll send you something nice later, ok?"

"That's not the problem. It's… you're impossible."

"If you're trying to praise me, you're not doing a very good job."

I couldn't help feeling like today was going to be a very long day.