Clara was amused at the boy's floundering attempts at conversation, though she did her best to appear at least somewhat sympathetic. It was kind of hopeless, though; between his embarrassment and the actual nature of his predicament, Clara couldn't help but giggle softly.
"It's just a little mud, you know? It's not like it's going to bite you or anything," she said after stifling her chuckles, though she still kneels down near the puddle and reaches in, searching for the keys. "Quirk" or not, he did ask for her help, and, besides, she was planning on showering after she got back to her dorm anyways.
It takes a bit of blindly plopping her hand in the puddle before she feels something vaguely metallic and pulls it out. Unfortunately for Goldwyn, the key is absolutely drenched in mud, though Clara tries to get rid of some of it by flinging it off into the grass. With a smile, she hands the key out to him and says, "Here you go! There's still a little mud on it, though, but I'm sure it'll come off if you run under some hot water for a bit."