“I’m sorry.”

Clement took a moment and then said again, “I’m sorry.”

Sloane, surprised, raised an eyebrow. “Why say it twice?”

Clement shrugged, his hands tucked into his pockets. “She apologized once already. I figure I should match it. I don’t like leaving things unsettled.”

Sloane was the first to break into laughter.

The room erupted into laughter, the kind that made it hard to stop once it started.

They couldn’t help it; they had never witnessed an apology turn into such a strange competition.

Clement, however, was confused. What was so funny about a serious situation like this?

He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Without saying a word, Clement turned and walked downstairs, returning minutes later with drinks for everyone, not just Evie.

Evie popped open her drink and discovered it was coffee. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she noticed Clement’s choice. “You really shouldn’t be drinking a milkshake. It might be too sweet for you.”

Clement shot her a sharp look, annoyance flickering in his eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

Evie tilted her head, amusement dancing in her expression. “Well, want to swap?”

Clement’s frown deepened as he glanced between his drink and hers. Then, Evie added with a teasing grin, “Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk it yet, so it’s not dirty.”

“I never called it dirty!” Clement snapped, snatching Evie’s coffee and shoving his milkshake into her hands. “If you wanted the milkshake, you could’ve just said so. Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor—we’re not that close.”

Without waiting for a response, Clement turned and strode away. Evie scowled, her lips curving into a pout as she watched him disappear around the corner.

She thought Clement was quite ungrateful for not appreciating her kind gesture.

Evie left as the evening crept in.

Fernanda remained at the studio with the team, squeezing in a few more practice matches before preparing to head back to school. Exiting the office building, she was approached by Clement, who caught up to her quickly.

The eighteen-year-old had grown impressively tall, and Fernanda had to crane her neck slightly to meet his gaze.

Clement was dressed in a graphic T-shirt featuring a devil’s head. The design exuded an eerie yet captivating vibe, especially under the neon lights.

“Fernanda,” Clement called out, his eyes scanning her face warily. “I really didn’t mean for things to go down like that today.” He was referring to the incident when he had pushed Evie.

“I know,” Fernanda replied, her smile reassuring. “And the issue was resolved. She didn’t hold it against you.”

Clement’s fingers nervously ran through his hair as he hesitated. “It’s not about her forgiving me, it’s just… I’m worried you might think I’m harsh on girls.”

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