She had always felt like the rowdy one growing up. Deeta remembered football games where she was the loudest cheerleader. Granted, it wasn't ESPN, but she had been good at being with people and making others excited. Here, in this house she felt like time stood still with how fast Peter moved from subject to subject. She was pretty sure it was because his comments were so far out of left field. Like if Deeta got wet thinking about him, for instance, that she couldn't think of a way to answer. It was a ridiculous thought. Before she could even fathom a reply, she was listening to his next point.
Deeta followed him into the other room, letting Peter dig into the food. She, however dug into a brown, paper bag that was a little less attractive than the branded dinner bag. She popped open the bottles with her keychain bottle opener, and Deeta slid one over to Peter. "Here you go. Can you dish me up some of the wings?" she asked before she heard him say something else. She could keep up and still keep her priorities.