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Behati had come prepared to prostrate herself on the altar of Sorry. She too had a speech prepared - one where she apologized profusely for provoking the boy, for making fun of his very natural reaction to the presence of a lady.

But he said sorry first, and Behati was free from any obligation to learn something.

She eyed Casmir with suspicion, empowered by his show of humility. "It's OK, I guess," she conceded with a shrug of her slim shoulders, gaze wandering over his face and away into the distance, scaling the mountains in moments. After that, Behati was at a bit of a loss. Now what? Rub his face in it? "So I guess.. we should be friends again?" she murmured with an air of disinterest, unable to stop herself from meeting his eye. Very glance ate away at her feelings of smugness and superiority, and she felt glad that their spat was over. Being angry was as tiring as it was gratifying - perhaps more so.