"Did you ever talk to him?"
Barkovitch blinked and turned around. Standing behind him was a girl – probably a year older than him, dark, curly hair, brown eyes, incredibly pretty. "Who?" he asked.
"Pete – Peter McVries."
Barkovitch narrowed his eyes and debated telling her exactly what he thought of Peter McVries. He must have been thinking about that for a while, because she began to get restless. He took the easy way out.
"No." At least, we never had an actual conversation. He hated me, I hated him, perfect combination there. His fault him and Garraty are dead – not like either of them were going to win anyway.
"Oh. That's all, then-"
"Wait."
Barkovitch didn't know why he'd stopped her, but… it had been three weeks since the end of the Walk. He'd passed the week most victors died in. He was (mostly) sane. He had money. A house away from everybody he knew/hated him.
He could try to make friends?
"Yeah?"
"I did," Barkovitch said. "Talk to him, I mean. We didn't really… get along." At all, he called me killer I called him scarface we hated each other I laughed when he died.
The girl nodded. "Pete's sometimes – I mean, sometimes was, a little hard to get along with."
"Want me to tell you what he did on the Walk over…" Barkovitch glanced around. Ah. A coffee shop just across the street. "Coffee?"
She smiled at him and he bit his lip.
"Sure."
Her name's Priscilla she's scarface's ex-girlfriend she cut his face open she still loves him but she understands why I hated him still hate him she doesn't hate me on sight at least I don't think so she's coming over tomorrow and I really really like her she's pretty and not very nice and while she loves scarface she hates him at the same time-
He was losing himself again. He needed to concentrate. He bit down on his lip until it bled, pacing back and forth across the floor. His feet still kind of hurt, but it had been three weeks, enough lying around in bed.
Besides, the slight pain helped him focus more.
She was coming over to his house tomorrow.
She didn't hate him.
How was he supposed to act in a situation like this? What was he supposed to do? She was coming over for lunch, what should he make? Even though he'd made food for himself for years, he still wasn't above macaroni and cheese, he really wasn't very good at cooking anything.
He had money, he could always hire someone to cook something, but what should he hire them to cook? Should he buy a pizza? What kind of food did she like, anyway? Christ, what if she had an allergy or something?
She was fine with pizza.
"If you're paying for it, I can't complain," she said, shrugging. She smiled at him and he swallowed. Why did she smile so much? It kind of freaked him out.
Better than Garraty's girlfriend, who'd stopped in on his hospital room. She never stopped crying about Garraty. Barkovitch was half-convinced she'd just stumbled into his room by mistake and decided to take her sadness out on the first person she saw. Better than Cathy Scramm, who wouldn't stop thanking him for the money he sent her each week. Barkovitch was half-tempted to just stop, unborn child be damned.
"Are you okay?"
"What? Um, yeah," Barkovitch said, staring at the table. Christ, why was she so pretty? Why was she in Maine, anyway?
Furthermore, why had he moved to Maine, Garraty's hometown no less? He probably shouldn't have been surprised that Garraty's girlfriend had stumbled in on him.
"So, is it nice? Having this much money?"
"Yeah. I mean, I don't really even have to leave the house if I don't want to. I could really just stay in here all day for the rest of my life," Barkovitch said, shrugging. She nodded. She wouldn't stop looking at him and it was kind of freaking him out.
"I couldn't stand any of them! Scarface mostly, but all of them. All of them hated me, and I didn't even do anything to them. Every time I tried to say anything, scarface'd tell me to shut up and half of the time it didn't even have to do with him! I-"
She kissed him.
Christ she kissed him why did she do that she couldn't actually like him nobody ever liked him not that he was complaining she was really pretty and even with the weird money obsession she was a good person probably, as good a person as him and he wasn't a bad person he just always got off on the wrong foot but not with her because… because-
"Are you okay?"
Barkovitch blinked and nodded. "Y-yeah," he said. Just wasn't expecting that.
She smiled at him.
Again.
I still don't know where this pairing come from but I like it.