I think I’ve made a friend in Green Eyes. I was never good at making friends, even before I spent so much time alone. Most of my socializing was done with my blood, or whoever my parents had decided to let hang around us. There was almost never anyone my age, with kids being so rare. I’m pretty sure I was an accident myself.

So with all those fabulous social opportunities, I was left far from an expert in the friends department.

But I once read a book that spoke at length about what friendships were supposed to be like.

Friends support each other, talk to each other, and generally spend time together. It seems like Peter is eager to do all three, so that should mean that he’s interested in being my friend.

Which means I’ll need to be a good friend. I’m not entirely sure how to do that, but I think a good start will be convincing him to come to Paradise with me.  

I know how to survive outside of the Hub. I don’t think he has all that much experience with survival, not in the same capacity that I do. But I can teach him, keep him safe as we travel and he can focus on keeping me company. Then when we get to Paradise he can teach me how to act normal in a society.

The Hub counts as a society, I think, and he knows how to survive and thrive in a society. Pest control used to be a very big deal before the fall, if he can help with rat problems, he’ll probably be able to do that at Paradise. Like an actual business.

Maybe we could get him a van, like the ones I’ve seen on the side of the road once or twice.

“How far is your rent-a-room from here?” I ask him as we make another turn, going deeper and deeper into the Hub. Towards the swallowed neighborhood where most of the living accommodations are. 

“A good fifteen minutes or so of walking left, sorry, it was cheaper to live on the far side of the Hub,” he tells me with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. I glance at his face in the sparse light of the occasional lamp. His nose and cheeks are a little pink from the chilly air, and when he breathes, small puffs of misty air appear like smoke. The nights are getting colder faster than I thought they would, which could prove to be problematic on the last leg of my journey to Paradise. I can’t waste any time after I get the last of my supplies tomorrow morning, I need to be safely at Paradise before the snow begins. Which means I need to convince Green Eyes to come with me tonight.

“You don’t need to apologize, I’d probably make the same decision if I were you,” I say, watching as my own breath temporarily freezes in the air. I hate the cold.

I’ll start working on my convincing when we get to his rent-a-room, where it should hopefully be a little warmer.

Tomorrow morning, I should see if I can get a hold of some gloves, my fingers feel like they’re going to freeze.

“Yeah? Think we could be neighbors?” Peter asks conversationally, and I think about that for a moment. At Paradise we could be neighbors.

“Only if you’re a quiet neighbor, I don’t like being woken up before sunrise,” I answer, another grin pulling at the corners of my mouth. I think my face might end up being sore by the time we leave tomorrow, I haven’t smiled this much in forever. I  missed it.

I missed having someone to talk to, and it helps that Peter is just so easy to talk to. It’s like he was made for conversation. Even better, he doesn’t seem to care that I sometimes need to think about my words before I share them.

My Mother hated when I did that, she’d tell me that hesitation was bad. That I needed to act quicker. 

She wasn’t entirely wrong about that.

I still take my time to think though. It feels safer, even when it usually isn’t.

“Quiet as a mouse, and very clean,” Peter replies, giving me a friendly nudge with his elbow. 

“That felt a little pointed,” I comment, very aware of my current hygiene, or rather lack thereof.

“It was, you’re going to take a bath before I let you try any of my stuff on, them’s the rules.”

“Understandable, a bath sounds really nice,” I mumble, looking at the caked on dirt on my boots as we walk.

Getting Peter to Paradise will also make up for all the kindness he keeps showing me. The perfect way to make things between us nice and even.

The rest of our walk is quiet as Peter guides me through the maze that leads to his rent-a-room. It isn’t in a building that I am familiar with, it looks as if it was built within the last couple of years. Definitely not the nicest of buildings, it’s one long building with only one floor. There’s doors that stretch on, each labeled with a neatly painted number that looks like a dark blue in the limited light.

Peter is staying in room Nine.

“This is called the Crow Building, by the way,” Peter tells me as he digs a small key from his pocket to unlock his door with.

It swings open with a noticeable creak that makes me cringe and look around, as if something was going to come shambling out of the darkness after us.

But I haven’t seen anyone, dead or alive, other than Peter since we left the little restaurant. Peter doesn’t seem to notice and simply steps inside, slipping off his duct taped sneakers as he does so. I do the same with my boots, not wanting to track dirt into Peter’s living space, even if I plan on getting him to leave it tomorrow. 

It’s warmer in here than outside and I set my pack down by the door before peeling off my jacket. In truth, I hadn’t really noticed that it was too small before Peter pointed it out in the restaurant. It kept me warm enough when it began to get colder at night and in the mornings and that was enough. But agreeing to try on one of Peter’s seemed to make him happy, which will make it easier to convince him to come with me to Paradise.

“Alright, let me get your bath started,” Peter says while kicking his trashed sneakers off to the side. He slips his bag off and drops it onto a worn looking armchair before walking off deeper into his rent-a-room.

True to its name, his rent-a-room is basically just that, a room. The bathroom is technically a different room, but I doubt it's big enough to matter a whole lot. 

Peter has a twin sized bed that’s shoved into the far corner, from here it’s hard to tell what the pattern on his sheets are, but I think it’s just gray and white squiggles. It’s neatly made with the sheets tucked in and everything.

Then there’s his armchair of course, it’s well used, a bit squished from years of use and a faded shade of green. It seems soft.

There’s also a lot of boxes, all lined up against whatever available wall space Peter managed to find.

All of this is illuminated by a nightlight that’s plugged into the wall right next to the armchair, nestled between two stacks of boxes. I want to poke around a little, but I’m fairly certain that’d be considered rude.

In Peter’s little bathroom, I can faintly hear water running and the sound brings me to a fantastic realization.

I’m about to take a bath, which admittedly is not something I do often. Not for lack of trying, I’d love to have hot baths regularly, but that’s not usually an option while traveling. Just another reason for why living in Paradise is going to be so much better.

And another reason for why I need to get Peter to come with me, I’m going to owe him again after the bath.

A small part of me can’t quite figure out why he’s so eager to help me and it’s nagging at me. Maybe he’s just that kind of person, or maybe he’s also caught up in the fact that we’re around the same age and in the old world that was a precursor to being friends?

Green Eyes, despite seeming to know a lot about people and of people, doesn’t seem to have many close to him. Loneliness could be a big factor here for him. It definitely is for me.

“Maveth! The waters warm,” Peter suddenly calls out while peeking his head around the doorway. He frowns, seeing me still standing beside the door. 

“What the hell are you still doing over there?” He asks, stepping fully out of the bathroom and crossing his arms. I give him a sheepish smile and step closer.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to stand.”

“Alright then,” Peter says, his arms uncrossing and falling to his sides. “Well like I said, the water is warm and you’re welcome to whatever soap you find in there.”

“Thanks, Peter.”