"I might come by again tomorrow or Wednesday, if you're still going to be here; do you want me to bring anything?"
"Oh, I'm still gonna be here," he assures her. "Gonna be here all week, I bet." He cracks a grin. "You could bring me some cake."
He waves his hand vaguely - the one not attached to a broken arm. "You're nice and you're bringing me cake. I love you. I'm kind of high," he adds as an afterthought. "Or I would've been lying more."
"I do hope you aren't the sort to be embarrassed by things you've said while stoned once the condition has passed."
"I also suspect you don't care if anyone brings you your homework, or class notes, or anything."
"Ah-huh. Do you have anything to do in here? Should I bring you some books or something as well as cake?"
"I really don't have shit to do in here," he says. "Some books would be nice, I guess."
"If you have a better idea for portable entertainment do tell."