Chapter 715
Chapter 715:
Vinson inquired about their upcoming finals and casually mentioned that he could arrange for custom-made uniforms for the team.
Sloane, ever eager, was the first to respond. “That’s perfect!” she cheered. “I need to get started on designs! T-shirts, hoodies, jackets, pants, shorts—and don’t forget the coats for winter! They’ve got to look great!”
“Got it,” Vinson agreed with a nod. “Send me your designs, and my team will take care of the rest.”
“Awesome,” Sloane exclaimed, giving a thumbs up.
The team’s current attire had been hastily picked from an online shop, with just their names slapped onto the fabric. The plain cuts, paired with their quirky team names, gave off more of a casual, mismatched vibe.
Hours slipped by as they continued chatting, with Fernanda and Vinson indulging in several rounds of beer.
Wendy appeared to be in low spirits and ended up drinking more than usual. By the time they left, she was swaying slightly, so Fernanda took it upon herself to help her stay steady.
“Let me give you a ride,” Vinson offered, his voice calm but firm. “It’s getting late. I’ll make sure you get back safe.”
Fernanda didn’t hesitate, helping Wendy into the passenger seat without a second thought.
On the other hand, Sloane muttered under her breath, “I’ll just grab a cab.”
The memory still lingered—how she had gotten so drunk last time that she’d thrown up all over Fernanda. Jeff had filled in the gaps, and the sheer embarrassment had made her wish the ground would swallow her whole.
No way she’d let history repeat itself.
Fernanda, sensing Sloane’s hesitation, smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you didn’t drink that much tonight,” she said. “And anyway, I’m not bothered by it.”
“I’d rather wait for Jeff to pick me up,” Sloane hesitated, clearly reluctant as she said it.
𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠: g𝕒𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝕖𝗅𝕤﹒ⅽ𝕠𝕞
Without missing a beat, Fernanda gave her a gentle push into the car, making sure she didn’t have a chance to protest further.
Fernanda was the last one to hop in, and Vinson, ever the gentleman, opened the car door for her. His hand rested just below the frame to shield her from bumping into the car.
At a distance, Hertha watched, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before her.
She had stayed behind after leaving the mall, drawn to her own billboard. She sat on a nearby bench, lost in her thoughts, unsure of what direction to take next.
Then, she spotted Vinson emerging from a bar. She considered approaching him, but before she could take a step, she noticed the group of girls surrounding him.
His laughter and relaxed conversation with them seemed so natural, a stark contrast to the distant, composed man she was used to. Her eyes lingered as she saw Vinson open the car doors for them, handling the task with a careful, almost considerate touch.
A surge of jealousy crept over her.
They were all the same age, yet here she was, struggling to catch Vinson’s attention while these girls seemed to effortlessly gain his favor.
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