There will be cheese.

Skylar has been cooking again despite the Fire Department's advice.

There Will Be Cheese.

          Skylar stood triumphantly before her latest creation: a lopsided lasagna oozing orange goo. The fire alarm, having long given up, blinked red in weary silence.

          "You're doing it wrong."

          Skylar whirled around. Her roommate, Jordan, leaned in the doorway, holding a single grocery bag and wearing oven mitts as defense. "I smelled it from the parking lot. The raccoons fled."

          "It's deconstructed," Skylar declared, waving a charred spatula. "You wouldn't understand."

          Jordan set the bag down slowly. "Skylar, last week you boiled water for ramen and set the pot on fire. The week before, your 'simple omelet' required three fire extinguishers and a visit from the superintendent. And don't get me started on the waffle incident."

          "That waffle was art!"

          Jordan sighed. "You've been 'practicing' for eleven months. Eleven. The only thing improving is your ability to summon emergency services."

          Skylar frowned. "But I follow recipes!"

          "Yes, but you ignore every instruction," Jordan said, opening the fridge. "You used motor oil as 'cooking spray' last Tuesday."

          "That was an accident! It looked like olive oil!"

          "Skylar, motor oil does not sparkle."

          "Well, maybe if you helped instead of judging--"

          "I have helped! I taught you how to use a can opener. You tried to microwave it."

          "I'm committed to mastery."

          "And I'm committed to surviving until graduation," Jordan shot back.

          Skylar's shoulders slumped. "I just want to be good at something."

          Jordan softened. "Maybe... we take a class? Together? With supervision. And fire marshals on standby?"

          Skylar perked up. "Will there be cheese?"

          "Only the non-flammable kind."

          "Deal." She paused. "How do you turn off this smoke machine? I used too much paprika."

          Jordan stared at the stove. "That's not paprika. That's the smoke detector's lithium battery."

          "Ah. Explains the metallic aftertaste last time." Skylar grinned.

Word Count: 297
Prompt: Write a story that includes the line: "You're doing it wrong."