Author's Note: woohoo first time writing this ship

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine.

If this wasn't awkward, then Priscilla didn't know what was.

She was standing over the grave of her dead ex-boyfriend, whose cheek she'd cut open with a letter opener. She'd thrown him out of the fucking house and then suddenly he was dead?! I mean, sure, Pete had been an asshole, but he didn't deserve to die.

It was his own fault that he was dead, though. He'd been dumb enough to enroll in the Long Walk. She knew Pete. Pete wasn't the type to get out of something like that alive. But Pete wasn't dumb. It struck her as odd that he'd enter in the damn thing, he probably knew he wouldn't make it out alive.

"Are you Priscilla?"

The voice belonged to a scrawny, brown-haired boy. "Yeah, what do you want?" Her voice was reminiscent of that of an irritated shop clerk.

"You fucking killed him."

"I didn't kill anybody, what are you talking about?"

"You're the reason that Pete is fucking dead!" The boy's face was streaked with tears and he looked like he'd come out of the before section of a bad commercial.

"I broke up with him. Stuff like that happens." Priscilla folded her arms, trying her best to look intimidating. She hadn't killed anybody, right? She'd broken up with Pete, and sure, maybe she'd gotten a little bit...nasty...but that wasn't murder. That sure as hell wasn't murder.

A tall, willowy, blonde girl came running up behind the angry, irrational boy. "Ray. Ray, leave the people mourning alone. They're as devastated as you are." She appeared to be trying her best to sound gentle, but just sounded exasperated.

"Fuck off."

The blonde girl looked slightly hurt. "Ray..."

Priscilla decided that this asshole was not going to ruin this day for her. Her ex-boyfriend was dead, that was bad enough. "Alright, Ray, if that's even your name. You don't tell your girlfriend to fuck off. Hell, you don't even tell your friends to fuck off. But especially not your girlfriend."

"You would know."

The blonde girl said to Ray, "Hush." What a weird way to calm someone down, Priscilla thought. No one tells anybody to hush anymore. 'Shut up' is usually a more effective way.

"This is a funeral for all of my dead friends and you're telling to fucking hush?!"

Priscilla then pushed Ray away from the girl. "Okay, back the fuck off and go mourn my dead ex-boyfriend. Don't bring people who had nothing to do with the damn event anyways into it."

Ray sighed and started away from the two girls. "H-he's not usually like this." She twirled her hair around her finger, looking absentmindedly down at the ground. "I'm Jan, by the way."

"Priscilla. You probably could tell that."

"Yeah." Jan stared down at her shoes. "Ray liked your ex-boyfriend a lot."

"Really, I never would've guessed." Jan blinked and Priscilla sighed. "Sarcasm. He made quite a show of how much he liked Pete."

"Oh." Jan looked like the type of girl who never got into any trouble and who was her teacher's favorite but everyone else's least favorite. Hell, she looked like a porcelain doll, with rosy cheeks and everything.

"I guess the damn Walk takes its toll on the winner."

"Why are you swearing at a funeral?"

Priscilla took a moment to consider this, and then said, "I think the dead boys would appreciate it."

Jan laughed. Jan had a nice laugh, it wasn't one of those ugly bellowing laughs that usually belonged to drunk teenagers. It was just a small, feminine sound. Jan seemed to be very small and feminine.

"That wasn't even that funny."

"It was. You seem like you'd be really funny."

Wow. For an asshole's girlfriend, this girl was nice. A lot of assholes seemed to end up with nice girls they didn't deserve. Yeah. That was just how life went. And, no, she wasn't considering herself a 'nice girl,' thank you very much. "Thanks, I guess."

Jan shifted from foot to foot awkwardly. "You're welcome." Then out of nowhere, she asked, "D'you miss him?"
"Pete? Why would I miss a fucking asshole like Pete?"

"Well, he's dead. No one really deserves to die. Especially not in the Walk." Jan sighed and looked around, probably looking for Ray.

"I guess," was the best Priscilla could come up with. Damn, she bet that Jan took philosophy classes or something. Jan seemed like the type of girl to do that.

"I'm glad Ray's not dead."

Priscilla considered her impressions of Ray. He seemed overly emotional and probably whined a lot. No wonder he liked Pete so much. "He seems like a pretty big fuckass." Jan giggled. "What?"

"I-it's just...that word you used..." Jan appeared to be having a mild fit of giggling. Dear lord. And she'd criticized Priscilla for swearing.

"What, fuckass?"

"Y-yeah," Jan said in between giggles. "I've never heard it before."

"I've gotten creative with curse words. Asshat and dickwad are a few of my favorites."

The reality that she was exchanging curse words and giggling at a collective funeral for her boyfriend's dead friends set in on Jan, and somehow that made her laugh even more. "Are you okay?" Priscilla raised her eyebrows.

"This is just s-so weird...This doesn't feel like a funeral."

"It is a fucking funeral. Just not for someone you know. So it's different, I guess."

Jan took a deep breath and stopped laughing. "Yeah, I s'pose. I feel bad for Ray, but I didn't know any of these people, so I'm not sad."

"Yeah. Life's like that. It isn't your fault for not caring. You don't have any reason to care. People who care about people they don't know usually end up bad."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good."

Jan was strangely intrigued by the dark-haired girl with the cropped short hair who swore a lot and didn't seem to give a fuck about anyone. She was snarky and rude, but not in a bad way. It felt almost like she'd made a friend, except you don't make friends at funerals and she'd probably never see her again.

"Hey, Jan. Can I have your number?"

"Why?"

"Just 'cause." Priscilla produced a pen from her bag. Jan recited her phone number, and Priscilla rummaged around in her bag for paper but never found one, so she ended up writing it on her left arm.

"Can I have yours?" Jan beamed. Maybe she would see her new friend again.

"Sure."

Jan, unlike Priscilla, had a notepad handy. It sure looked a lot less stupid than writing it on your arm, Priscilla thought. God, what were her friends going to say?

Ray returned from crying over her dead ex-boyfriend and Priscilla tuned out of his conversation with Jan. She didn't have time for asshole boys.

"Well, I got what I came for. I suppose I'll be going now."

Jan broke out of conversation with Ray for a moment. "Bye."

"Call me." Priscilla blew Jan a kiss and promptly walked out of the graveyard. Jan turned bright red, looking away from Ray in embarrassment.

Ray didn't seem to know what emotion to form on his face, he looked extremely flustered, but somehow a somewhat bittersweet smile made its way onto it. "No wonder she was McVries's girlfriend."