Nick doesn't catch exactly what Raleigh is saying, what with a mouth full of food and a bad angle to see anyway, but he can spot an apology when he sees one. He shrugs it off, waving a hand casually.

He's covered in streaks of dirt, exhausted, and surprised to realize how hungry he is--except he hasn't eaten since he got here. Nick doesn't know why he still gets hungry, actually, or why he sleeps, or why so far it's just him and Larry, and the benefit of being sunburned and aching is that he's worked himself into a kind of bruised, grieving calm where the answers don't weigh on him with such urgency. He needs to eat, so does the man next to him, and Nick points at the next tray of sandwiches, then gives a thumbs up.

They're good, is what he's trying to get across.