She doesn't have to tell him, and she doesn't know why she has. There's no big moment, no second of revelation where she's overwhelmed by needing to tell him before it becomes too much to continue keeping this secret. Then again, once the name is out, she doesn't experience any great loss afterwards. It's a name that means less and less to her as each day passes, each day that she leaves her old life behind and keeps walking into this new one - and it's a changing journey made all the more dramatic now that she's been completely uprooted into a world that doesn't carry a single remaining shred of her old life. Zombieland wasn't a life. Not really. But Columbus was there, and he'd made it bearable. He's here too, and no amount of talking about it will ever make her feel like she's being grateful enough, but now there are others, and some she feels like she owes this to more than others. She draws in a breath, then sighs, shrugging casually.

"It suits me about as much as a pink frilly dress would," she replies, giving him a look. She knows what he means by it, though, and the smirk on her face implies that much.