Becca lay on her bed, the purple and gold bedcovers scrunched under her, books everywhere, her new laptop turned on, her hands hovering across the keyboard. She was surprised by how hard this was, as unexpectedly hard as making up with Chloe had been unexpectedly easy. But a reconciliation three days before the end of camp caused almost as many problems as it had solved. It was easy - well almost - to hang out and laugh with Chloe, to sit next to each other at dinner as they were lectured on maintaining their progress and how not to fall into bad habits, even to let Chloe do her hair and her show Chloe the needle lace cuffs she was sewing for a medieval dress she had been working on at home.
But here, far away from Camp Victory, it was hard to know what to say. All these insecurities kept rising in her - maybe Chloe had only apologised to make herself feel better, and why would she want to talk to Becca anyway. What could Becca possibly have to say that Chloe would be interested in, anyway.
She was about to shut down the computer and give up when a new email came through for her. An email from Chloe.
“Hi Becca,” she read, and started to smile.