"I'm --" Fine is so far from true it would almost be funny, if anything were funny right now. He changes what he was about to say, fairly sure his lying is not up to par right now, but still caring enough to try. "Yes. I think. Just distracted. Sorry."

Someday he will stop apologising for his existence; today is not that day, apparently.

He focuses, trying to smile -- and not quite succeeding, but he hopes he at least makes his face look less... something. Sad or lost. He is also going to redirect this conversation away from himself, so: "Were you swimming?" Well, he's wet. Brilliant deduction, Wolfgang.