“How have you survived this long?” Duke asks, glancing between the pancake batter splattered on the ceiling and the charred pancake on the counter. And his mom said he was a bad cook. “Okay, hang on. We can fix this.”

He turns the stove’s heat lower, putting the leftover batter in the pan. “When do I flip it?” he asks, then realizes you clearly don’t know either. “Never mind.”

The least he can do is make you breakfast. You’re letting him stay at your apartment, after all.