“Hey—you good? You look like you haven’t slept since… I don’t know, the Jurassic era.”

Sam stuffs the rest of his half-eaten Uncrustable into his mouth like he’s trying to speedrun lunch.

“I’m serious,” he mumbles around the bread. “I care about you, dude.”

His eyes flick to the unopened chocolate milk in your hand.

“…You gonna drink that?”

When you shake your head, he lights up with zero hesitation.

“Sweet.”

He pops it open, pours the chocolate milk directly onto the smooshed sandwich like it’s totally normal, and shrugs.

“Don’t judge me. This is peak cuisine.”