She knows - in theory, at least - how to cut up people. Cutting up mushrooms should be pretty simple by comparison. At least the mushrooms won't fight back. "Yeah, I got it."

She grabs the knife and starts cutting, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Once she decides she can do something, she's not gonna do it halfway. Chopping has the added benefit of distracting her from the daunting prospect of small talk. At least it's just him. The possibility of meeting his aunt and uncle is even more daunting. She frowns down at the mushrooms as she tries to think of something, anything, to say. She could just pretend she's undercover, that she's playing a character who's great at small talk, but she doesn't want the only friendship she has right now to be fake.

Finally, she decides to just tell him the truth. "I don't do this a lot," she says, her tone somewhere between rueful and annoyed at her own social limitations. "I don't have a lot of friends."