Title: Mall Escape

Liam’s heart thundered in his chest as he burst through the glass doors of Sageview Mall. He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder; he could hear the shouts and pounding sneakers behind him. All because he’d accidentally bumped into the wrong guy at the arcade and spilled a soda on his shoes. Not a capital offense, but try telling that to a group of hotheaded teens. He raced past the food court, barely dodging a display of soft pretzels, and made a sharp right into the nearest store—only registering too late that he was surrounded by mannequins in flowery sundresses and racks glittering with rainbow earrings. Liam dashed for the fitting rooms, slipped into an empty cubicle, and yanked the curtain closed with trembling hands. He sucked in a shaky breath, listening. The footsteps thundered past, out into the main mall again. Then he looked down and cursed under his breath. His faded band tee and ripped jeans stood out like a sore thumb against the pink walls and floral wallpaper. If the guys doubled back, he’d be spotted in a second. His eyes darted around the tiny dressing room. On the bench was a small pile: a pale pink bra and matching panties, a summery green dress, a pair of white heeled sandals, and a floral scrunchie. He shuddered at the idea, but desperate times… Liam undressed, cheeks burning, and hastily tugged on the unfamiliar undergarments. The dress followed, slipping over his head with a swish. He stepped into the sandals—slightly small but manageable—and grabbed the scrunchie, twisting his long hair into a high ponytail. After a shaky breath, he studied himself in the tiny mirror. With his sharp cheekbones, smooth skin, and a nervous smile, he realized the disguise was shockingly plausible. He gave a little wave—a practice for confidence. Liam lifted his chin, pulled back the curtain, and stepped into the store. He tried not to walk too obviously, but remembered his sister’s advice about faking confidence. Out on the sales floor, he kept his head down, arms crossed, and made for the exit. At the store’s entrance, the group of chasers loitered, scanning the crowd. One glanced in Liam’s direction, gaze lingering for a moment—but then his eyes slid off, uninterested. Liam strolled past, careful to sway his hips just a little, and felt every muscle relax as the danger passed. He picked up speed, weaving through the crowd, out into the blessed safety of the parking lot. His phone buzzed with a text from his mom: “Be home for dinner at 6.” Right. Getting home. Dressed like this. He sighed, shoving his hands into the dress’s pockets, and began walking, already rehearsing what he’d say if his mother saw him. Maybe he could slip in the back door, dash upstairs, and change before she— His phone buzzed again: “Don’t forget, I’ll be waiting in the living room to talk about your grades.” Liam groaned and trudged onward. He might have escaped the chaos at the mall, but the chaos at home might prove even harder to dodge.

Oliver's heart pounded in his chest as he dashed through the crowded corridors of the shopping mall. The shouts of the guys chasing him echoed in his ears, spurring him to run faster. Long hair whipped his face as he skidded around a corner and stumbled into a brightly lit clothing store. He glanced back, panic rising when he saw their silhouettes growing larger in the distance. With no time to think, he darted into a fitting room and yanked the curtain closed behind him. His breaths came in quick, heavy gasps as he assessed his hiding spot. It wasn't until he looked around that Oliver realized he was in a women's clothing store. His eyes landed on a chic black dress hanging on the wall and a few garments strewn across the bench. An absurd but desperate idea struck him—in a bid to avoid capture, he’d disguise himself as a girl. With shaky hands, he quickly stripped off his clothes. He grabbed a bra and managed to fasten it around his chest, then pulled on a pair of panties. Stepping into the dress, he pulled it over his head, the fabric clinging awkwardly to his form. He spied a pair of stylish sandals under the bench and shoved his feet into them, grimacing as he adjusted. For the finishing touch, he spotted a scrunchie and hastily gathered his long hair into a high ponytail. His reflection in the small mirror inside the fitting room was...surprisingly convincing. With a deep breath of both determination and fear, Oliver opened the curtain and stepped out. He tried to channel confidence and calm, walking casually as if he belonged. The guys who had been chasing him were scanning the crowd, their eyes sweeping past without recognizing him. He felt a surge of relief when he passed by them unnoticed. Outside the store, Oliver’s mind raced with the logistics of getting home without being seen by anyone who knew him. He decided to take the back streets, avoiding as many people as possible. His sandals clicked softly on the pavement, and the dress swayed with each step. As Oliver neared his house, his heart drummed with anxiety. He hated the possibility of his mother seeing him dressed this way, knowing the endless questions and likely laughter that would follow. Luck seemed to favor him that day, as he slipped quietly through the front door into the sanctuary of his room. Quickly, he changed back into his own clothes, stuffing the dress, bra, panties, and sandals into a duffel bag to return to the store later. He took a moment to re-tie his hair into its usual low ponytail, feeling more like himself again. When he finally emerged from his room, his mother was none the wiser. “Hey, Oliver, how was the mall?” she asked from the kitchen, her back turned as she chopped vegetables for dinner. “Uh, busy,” he said, offering a small smile. “I think I might lay low for a while.” She glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. “You and your dramatic adventures,” she teased, not realizing how close to truth her words were. Oliver gave a slight huff and retreated back to his room, relieved that he’d made it home without incident—and somewhat proud of his quick thinking. Maybe, just maybe, he’d let himself laugh about it someday, too.