Peter rolls her eyes and her fingers ache for a beer to twist between them. The line would be funny, steal a conspiratorial snicker at least from Peter's mouth if things were different, if they were normal. But, instead, he's a girl, and Roman's taking him on a date, and that line is edged in places where it wouldn't normally be, and they catch on her spine. At least in part because she's not entirely sure what she'd do if he tried. Not that she thinks he would, which is what made accepting the idea of a date so easy in the first place, even if it had been her joke.

"The drinks or walking?" That's a smirk on her lips and she shrugs thin shoulders. "I can walk, thanks." She's certain that when she's back to being a seventeen year old boy that all of this is going to seem really, really weird. "Sucks your car isn't here, though. That thing was fucking metal." She's going to pretend to be oblivious about how she was pretty sure dates and Roman and that car ended.

Somehow, Roman puts his hand out to take Peter's, and Peter lets him, though the unexpected contact makes her heart skip. She doesn't talk about it, doesn't think about it, at least, as much as she's able, anyway. It makes it feel like a date, in some weird fucking way Peter hadn't expected, but she shoves the thought down and lets him lead as her heels click as she walks with him.