"Well, I knew that," Pete said. He shifted his feet around so his left tucked more neatly between Ryland's and he could lean; Ryland was like a large, narrow, particularly lumpy bed. "I've even managed it myself."
What he'd managed was an impressive amount of smoke when he'd gotten bored waiting for the water to boil, wandered away, and gotten distracted by his hair. But that was information Ryland didn't have. "I should make my students do this," he said, pushing up on his toes some so he could try to catch a glimpse through the busily swinging kitchen door. "Cook manually."