Five Minutes

It had been a long day.

Kaitlyn adjusted the strap of her bra under her blouse, stifling a yawn as she folded a stack of camisoles for the third time that hour. The store was quiet now—just the low hum of the mall's air conditioning and the faint echo of a distant pop song playing on overhead speakers. Outside, the sky had gone that weird shade of blue that meant the mall would be emptying soon. Twenty-five minutes to close.

She checked the clock on the wall again. Exactly twenty-five.

Almost free.

Then the chime that sounded once someone passed through the mall entrance sounded.

She didn't look up right away. Maybe it was someone lost. Or someone confused. Or someone looking for their girlfriend, or—

"Hi," a male voice said, tentative but clear. "I'm, uh… I need to buy some clothes."

Kaitlyn blinked and looked up.

He was young. College-aged maybe. Slight. Shorter than her by an inch or two, with a mop of brown hair and dirt still clinging to the soles of his shoes. He was flushed in the cheeks, like he’d run the length of the mall to get there.

"Uh-huh," she said, forcing a tired smile. "Anything specific?"

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. I need… like… clothes for me. Women's clothes. For me."

A pause. A long one.

Kaitlyn stared. Was this a prank?

Her eyes flicked to the security camera near the dressing rooms. The mall didn't get many of those kinds of TikTok guys anymore, but you could never be too careful.

"It's just—" he said quickly, reading her face, "I don't know my size. I was hoping you could measure me?"

He looked so uncomfortable. Not embarrassed exactly—more like determined. Focused.

Kaitlyn sighed. She'd been on her feet all day. Her arches ached. Her stomach grumbled. She had an open box of mini muffins in the back calling her name. But he didn't look like he was leaving.

"Fine," she muttered. "Stand here."

She grabbed the measuring tape from under the counter and gestured him over. He obeyed like a kid getting a flu shot.

She wrapped the tape around his chest. "Thirty-three," she said. "So you’d be a thirty-four A in most brands. Maybe a B if you like padding."

He nodded solemnly, pulled out his phone, and started taking notes. Like she'd just given him coordinates to Mars.

"Waist is twenty-eight. Hips thirty-two. Okay, so you're a small in everything. Extra-small in some."

"Thanks," he said. Earnest. Still flushed.

He disappeared into the racks like a diver plunging into open water.

Kaitlyn went back to folding camisoles but watched him from the corner of her eye. He didn't move like a guy shopping for a girlfriend. No hesitation. No wandering. He knew what he wanted.

A few blouses. Cropped ones. Then a pair of lace-trimmed panties. A thong. A few bras—one of them sheer. Two skirts—both short. Nothing practical. All of it screamed "bedroom" or "Instagram thirst trap."

At one point, he picked up a particularly revealing, racy top—a sheer mesh crop with delicate straps. He held it up, eyes distant.

"…I bet I could soar in this one..." he murmured.

Kaitlyn blinked. "Pardon?"

He glanced at her, cheeks reddening. "Sorry, was thinking of something else."

Oh.

So this wasn't a prank.

He was one of those.

She kept her face neutral.

She wasn't judging. She wasn't.

It just made her feel… ooky. Like someone had used her nail clippers without asking.

He came back to the counter with arms full of hangers, cheeks pink, eyes bright. "I think I'm ready."

She rang him up. One by one. The total made him wince.

"Sale rack's over there," she offered, mostly out of habit.

"No, this is good," he said quickly, then paused. "This is great."

She bagged his stuff in silence. The chime sounded again as he walked out, clutching the white bag to his chest like it was a birthday present and he didn't want anyone to bump into it.

He didn't look ashamed.

He looked… excited. Giddy.

She followed him with her eyes until he disappeared past the pretzel place, then looked at the clock.

Exactly five minutes left.

She reached under the counter and grabbed her keys.

"Five minutes won't kill anyone," she muttered, heading to the door. "I'm closing early."

The chime sounded one last time as slid the glass doors closed and locked them.