The sun was setting on the river journey as the group came into the alcove near where they were to meet up with the rest of the group on the trip.

"We're taking a breather here before landing," Jason said, drawing everyone's attention to him as they secured their paddles, "today was a hard day for your level; remember that," he looked at everyone, "you've all done a good job," Jason pointed looked at Chelsea and Bevis, "all of you."

"What can we expect tonight?" Mandy asked, absently taking Greg's hand and lacing her fingers through his, "The experienced crew will be sharing the site with us."

"They will," Jason nodded, "pitch your tents close to each other but not too close that you cannot get out at night," he said pointedly, looking at Charlie, "no matter what this group says about what you experienced today remember they have years more exposure to this kind of sport than you do. No matter where you go, there will always be people who belittle what you've achieved and experienced," Jason said, "don't let them take what you've learnt this week away from you."

"How could they do that?" Tiffany smirked, "it's not like they were with us."

"No, they weren't, and therefore they have no right to say anything," Jason said, "but they may want to make fun of something that seems challenging to you or something you experienced or learnt this week. We'll paddle in shortly, everyone will take a side of the raft, and we will carry it to where we will pitch our tents. Never assume anything is safe when sharing a campsite with others. Look out for each other and your possessions. Are you ready?"

Acknowledgements rose as everyone prepared to complete the most exhausting day they had experienced.

"Let's take her home," Jason said, glancing at Chelsea before returning his focus to the river and calling instructions.

Chelsea closed her eyes, sent up a small prayer and prepared for what could be the last moment she had a best friend.

"Bev, have you looked at the itinerary for today?" Chelsea asked.

"Not yet," Bevis said, "I'll have a look when we're on dry land."

"Good idea," Chelsea nodded, "well, I have, and there is something you should know about the group we're meeting up with."

They came into land at that moment, and everyone quickly clambered out, lifted the raft and moved higher up the shore, only stopping when they were nearly at an open space near the tree line. Jason left them to interact with the other group, and each person went off with their gear and luggage leaving Chelsea and Bevis.

"What about the other group?" Bevis asked, turning to Chelsea as she lifted her bags from the raft.

"Have a look," Chelsea said, handing Bevis the folder and pointing at the bottom where their names were listed.

Bevis began to read them off, stopping halfway through Brad's name; she swallowed, looking at Chelsea, "You don't think it's my ex Brad, do you?"

"That would be my hope," Chelsea said, "but how many people do you know who would do this kind of thing with that name."

"Only one," Bevis sighed, "how long have you known?"

"Since last night," Chelsea whispered, "please ... don't hate me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bevis asked, her voice low, controlled.

"We still had a stretch of river to go, and I didn't want you unfocused or do something stupid ..." she paused, "or both."

Nodding, Bevis read the tasks they needed to complete and returned the folder to Chelsea, "We have work to do."

Chelsea watched her move toward the others raising their tents, "Oh boy, this is going to be a fun night," following Bevis, she moved to a space between Tiffany and Bevis, preparing to pitch her tent before heading into the forest to collect wood, "I have a feeling this may be a solo trip for each of us."

Bevis worked silently beside Chelsea, pitching her tent quickly before limping into the forest to collect wood. Tonight she would be in the same space as Brad and didn't know how to process that. Although angry with Chelsea for withholding that information, Bevis could understand why Chelsea did it. Looking around the forest, Bevis began to gather wood, wincing as her leg jarred as she walked over the uneven ground and could feel the dampness of the bandage against her leg. Glancing down, she noticed the spot of blood was getting bigger.

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Sighing, she collected more wood, moving further into the forest. Stepping out from the shelter of a tree trunk Bevis noted a tall stranger was doing the same from a spot further down the shore. She watched him select only certain kinds of wood and no logging wood. Everyone had their way of doing things; he smirked when she chose and dragged a thick log back with her, shaking his head as he followed her toward the shoreline. Stepping into the cooling late afternoon, Bevis sighed as she looked around, finding herself back at camp. Greg jogged up, taking the large log from her and dragging it to one side of their clearing where Charlie waited with an axe.

Bevis noticed Chelsea had already selected an area for the fire and was already digging a hole. Joining her, Bevis dropped the pile next to her before looking around as Charlie began cutting into the log. The consistent thunk was becoming something that soothed Bevis; she smiled, who knew she would find something soothing from the outdoors.

"Haven't seen him yet," Chelsea said, "help me out here ... please."

Exhaling, Bevis crouched, barely covering the grimace as she handed Chelsea the required wood for the fire. Soon the women had a blazing fire. Glancing over to where the more experienced crew had selected their area for the evening, Bevis watched the tall stranger blowing gently between the wood, building a fire with so much finesse and skill it could have been a confectionary competition.

"What is he doing?" Chelsea whispered.

"I haven't a clue," Bevis said, "I'm sort of waiting for him to pass out from all that puffing."

"Yeah, me too," Chelsea giggled, "pity we don't have any popcorn."

"Oh, what I would do for popcorn right now," Bevis groaned, glancing at Chelsea, "we have tonight and tomorrow ... just that, and we're through this ..."

"Well ... well ... as I live and breathe ... if it isn't the princess herself," the sneering words clutched at Bevis' heart running coldly through her veins, "if I didn't see it myself, I wouldn't believe you could do anything but paint your fingernails."

Bevis glanced around; everyone in their group was watching. Tiffany and Jo smirked as they watched Brad approach them, both women eyeing him like a chocolate bar. Chelsea pushed to her feet, extending her hand to help Bevis from the ground.

"Don't let him destroy everything you've achieved this week," Chelsea whispered, "including being yourself."

Bevis stumbled to her feet, nodding at Chelsea's words and slowly turning to face the man who had made her life in the past year and a half a misery.

"Hello Brad," Bevis said, "I can't say it's nice to see you."

"Yeah, right. What are you doing here?" Brad asked, looking Bevis up and down, sneering when he noticed her bandage.

"I'm on a trip," Bevis said, "but you knew that cause our names were on the itinerary for tonight, just as your teams were."

"No, seriously..." Brad said, frowning at her, "... is this a desperate attempt to get me back?"

Bevis frowned at the words, "Get you back?" she shook her head, "Brad, I never want you in my life again. I don't even want you near my doorstep ever again."

"Then why are you here?" he shouted, making her flinch and inhale sharply.

"Brad, Bev is telling the truth. It was a last-minute trip and had nothing to do with you," Chelsea said, coming to Bevis' defence.

"Was I talking to you?" Brad said, looking Chelsea up and down with disgust, "... no ... so dry up and blow away."

At his words, murmurs and gasps floated on the river breeze, and Chelsea stiffened, balling her hands into fists. Bevis had promised herself she would not become angry or allow him to rile her into doing something she may regret; his behaviour toward Chelsea and the disrespect generally shown made her blood boil, and every promise made to herself shatter.

"For once in your life, you overindulged, self-absorbed, conceited, arrogant Neanderthal," Bevis said, limping toward him, "not everything on this earth revolves around you or, for that matter, has anything to do with you. Why I'm here is my own business and none of yours," Bevis paused, "and I don't need to answer any questions you may have or want to know. So back off and go back to pumping up your ego somewhere else."

Deafening silence rang over the clearing; glancing around, Bevis found everyone staring at them. Some paused in whatever they were doing. Tiffany and Jo's open mouths looked comical, and Bevis would laugh if she weren't so angry.

"Huh, so you have a backbone in there," Brad sneered, "it's a pity your leg wasn't that strong ... never knew anyone so useless at everything she did ... injuring yourself everywhere you go cause you're too worthless to get anything right."

Bevis sucked in the air at the hurtful words but was surprised to find instead of feeling belittled as she knew Brad wished, she had an overwhelming desire to punch the insolent, insulting man in front of her, easing her way toward him; she nodded.

"I know those words, which you said to me many, many times, are supposed to degrade so you can feel empowered and in control," Bevis said, stopping and looking into the arrogant expression, "but you have no power over me any more Brad, you see I may have an injured leg, but it works well."

"Oh really," he braced his feet wide apart, crossing his arms over his chest, "what can it possibly do but barely hold you up."

"This," she said, lifting it into the air, neatly swinging between his legs and connecting with his groin, "see ... my leg works very well."

The connecting crunch sounded like a gunshot in the silent clearing. Bevis balanced herself as Brad soundlessly crumpled to the floor.

"Come near me again with anything other than an apology, and you'll get more of what I just dished out," Bevis said, "now ... I have work to do."