"Not since I was in school," Malcolm replies. If he threw food around at home his mother would have had an absolute fit.

The crumbs hit his lap and Malcolm glances down at them before smiling slyly at Chloe. "That depends on how good the washers are here," he says. Not very, but he'll manage.

Tearing off a piece of the crust from his sandwich, he tosses it at Chloe.