"I'm fine, really," I said, trying to sound more convincing this time. "Just still processing the whole 'almost died' thing, you know?"
Nina didn't look convinced. She kept staring at me with those worried eyes, like she was expecting me to pass out again any second.
'She's really taking this guilt thing seriously,' I thought. 'I should probably try to lighten the mood or something.'
"Besides," I added with what I hoped was a reassuring grin, "if I was gonna die, I would've done it already. I'm too stubborn to give up now."
That got a tiny smile out of her, which was progress.
"Don't joke about that," she said, but her voice was less panicked than before. "You really scared me."
I wanted to keep the conversation going, partly because she seemed to need the distraction, and partly because that system window was still floating there waiting for an answer. Five thousand dollars was hard to ignore.
"So how's school been?" I asked. "I'm guessing I missed something important, knowing my luck."
Her expression shifted, and she looked embarrassed. "Actually, about that... we have a test tomorrow. Chemistry."
"Of course we do," I said, letting my head fall back against the pillow. "Because almost dying wasn't bad enough. Now I get to fail a test too."
"No, no," she said quickly, leaning forward in her chair. "I already talked to Mr. Imms about it. He's going to come here after school tomorrow to give you the test. He said as long as you're feeling up to it, you can take it in the hospital."
I stared at her. "You talked to our chemistry teacher about me?"
She nodded, looking even more embarrassed. "I figured you'd be worried about missing stuff, so I asked all our teachers what they wanted to do about assignments and tests."
'She did what now?' I thought. 'She went around asking teachers about my schoolwork?'
The idea of Nina walking up to the teachers and asking about my academic situation was so weird I couldn't even process it. When had anyone ever cared about whether I passed my classes?
"You didn't have to do that," I said.
"I wanted to," she replied, fidgeting with her hands. "It's the least I could do after... you know."
I made what was probably a pretty ridiculous face at the thought of taking a chemistry test while hopped up on painkillers in a hospital bed. The whole situation was so absurd that I couldn't help but find it funny.
She saw my expression and started laughing. Not just a polite little giggle either - she was actually cracking up, covering her mouth with her hand to try and keep quiet.
"What?" I asked, even though I was starting to smile too just from hearing her laugh.
"Your face," she said between giggles. "You looked like someone just told you Christmas was canceled."
"That's basically what it feels like," I said. "Taking a chemistry test in a hospital bed has got to be some kind of cruel and unusual punishment."
She laughed even harder at that, and I found myself watching her face change when she smiled. Her whole expression lit up, and those worry lines around her eyes disappeared.
'Is it really that easy?' I thought. 'I just act like myself and she laughs?'
I had always figured making people laugh required some kind of special skill or timing that I didn't have. But here I was, just complaining about a test, and Nina was laughing like I'd told the best joke ever.
'Maybe I'm not as boring as I thought.'
Her laughter was interrupted by this loud rumbling sound that seemed to come from nowhere. It took me a second to realize it was my stomach making noise.
Nina jumped like she had been startled by a gunshot.
"Oh my god," she said, looking horrified. "I completely forgot. I brought you lunch."
She reached down beside her chair and pulled up this bag I hadn't noticed before.
"I made too much at home and thought maybe you'd be hungry when you woke up," she explained, opening the bag and pulling out a container. "I mean, I wasn't sure if you'd even be able to eat solid food yet, but..."
She opened the container and the smell hit me immediately. Rice, some kind of meat, vegetables. It smelled amazing, which was saying something considering hospital air usually made everything smell weird.
"You made this?" I asked.
"It's just rice with meatballs and some vegetables," she said, looking embarrassed again. "Nothing fancy."
She handed me the container and a fork. My right hand was fine, so I could hold the fork okay, but coordinating eating while lying in a hospital bed was trickier than I expected.
'Don't be weird about this,' I told myself. 'Just eat the food like a normal person.'
But I was nervous. Nina was sitting right there watching me, and I didn't want to look like an idiot struggling to eat rice with one working arm. Plus, this was the first time a girl had ever made me food. That felt like a big deal, even if she had probably just made extra by accident.
I managed to get a forkful of rice and meatball without dropping it all over myself. The meatball was really good - seasoned just right and not too salty. The rice was perfect too, not mushy or undercooked.
"This is really good," I said after swallowing.
Nina's whole face lit up again. "Really? You're not just saying that to be nice?"
"I'm not that polite," I said, taking another bite. "If it sucked, I'd probably just eat it quietly and pretend it was fine. But this is actually good."
She smiled so wide I thought her face might crack. It was like I had just given her the best compliment in the world instead of just saying her cooking didn't suck.
'Why is she so happy about that?' I wondered. 'Doesn't she cook all the time?'
I kept eating, and Nina settled back into her chair looking way more relaxed than she had since I woke up. The food was helping with the empty feeling in my stomach, and having something to focus on besides the pain was nice.
"So," I said between bites, "how long did it take you to make this?"
"Not long," she said. "Maybe thirty minutes? I cook dinner for my family most nights anyway."
'Most nights?' I thought. 'That's way more responsibility than I have at home.'
My parents usually just ordered takeout or made frozen dinners. The idea of someone my age cooking actual meals on a regular basis was kind of impressive.
"That's cool," I said. "I can barely make toast without burning it."
"It's not that hard once you get used to it," she said. "I could teach you sometime, if you want."
I almost choked on my rice. Did she just offer to teach me how to cook?
'Is this what friendship feels like?' I thought, glancing at the system window that was still waiting for me to accept the mission.
There was no point in overthinking it, so I accepted the mission and the window disappeared.