Something to tell them? No, not particularly. Nothing really matters anyway. As far as explaining herself, she just doesn't have the drive. She just went through this whole song and dance with her friends what feels like only a moment ago, and that, too, turned out to be for naught. And she's not "condemning" herself for stating what's only a fact.

In contrast, he explains himself so clearly, his every word stating his intentions and allowing her the freedom to contend with them. She clutches at the hem of her skirt, focused on her breathing as she considers the outcome of each situation in her mind. She thinks of her friends and their persistence. She thinks of the words that have kept her going for so long, despite all odds, and she inhales sharply.

"I— I'll come, too," she says finally, expelling her breath in a quick burst of effort. She won't look him in the eye, though. Her gaze focuses on something nondescript in the corner of the room. "I might as well hear what they have to say."