Born Regal

ANYA

Mom was out on a date with Officer I-Can’t-Remember-His-Name, and I was left clicking through web tabs.

Mr. Chang’s was just around the corner. But now it was dark, and the delivery fee I’d have to pay for my laziness made me wince.

The tip they expected you to give—especially in New York, unless you wanted someone to spit in your food—and the delivery charge would almost equal half the cost of my meal.

I instantly regretted not picking it up earlier, but I hadn’t been hungry then. Plus, I’d been engrossed in a new expansion.

So, really, it was my fault for not noticing that Mom had left for her date almost an hour ago, the sun had set, and I was actually hungry.

I didn’t want to spend nearly sixty bucks on food for myself. Looking out the window, I sighed and headed to the kitchen. There wasn’t much there.

Cooking was never my thing. Mom might not be great at budgeting, but she was a fantastic cook. Unfortunately, I’d always found the task too challenging; I didn’t have the will or the patience to learn.

I preferred baking, from a box. It was exact and precise, just like programming, which couldn’t always be said for regular cooking.

I could use the exact same ingredients, and it wouldn’t taste the same each time, depending on several factors, which I didn’t care to learn. That’s what takeout was for.

Closing the fridge door, I sighed heavily, considering my options. I could make the run; it would be cheaper, and the restaurant was just around the corner.

Mom had pepper spray and other things in her top drawer. She didn’t want me going out after sunset but... I was technically an adult now. Plus, I’d be heading off to college in about three weeks.

My mind was made up almost immediately, although I was trying not to feel guilty from the moment I made that decision.

I was just so dang hungry, and we didn’t even have sandwich fixings, let alone enough milk for cereal.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to deal with my monthly lady-business, I pulled on boots and a heavy jacket. I then grabbed some pepper spray and my key ring, which had a hidden knife and a whistle.

Honestly, I’d probably choose the knife over the whistle any day, but a whistle could be useful when you needed help and attention, according to Mom.

She’d been mugged once, and she swore the whistle had saved her life, though I still had my doubts.

My nerves were on edge and adrenaline was pumping through my veins as I called Mr. Chang’s and placed my order to go. After pacing for ten minutes, it was time to head over.

Mom wouldn’t be home for a while; they were probably just starting their main course at some fancy restaurant.

By the time I walked to the restaurant, the food would be ready or almost ready.

Just go and come back. Simple, I thought as I checked myself over once more to make sure I had everything.

My heart was pounding, but I held my resolve, opening the door and locking it behind me as if it were any other day.

I’d been in our building’s hallway at night. I’d also been to the roof, but usually, I’d have Mom with me after dark. There wasn’t much up there, but it was nice to soak up the warm sun from time to time.

There was a tiny hallway that led to the outside stairs and onto the street, while an elevator took you to the roof access if you didn’t want to use the stairs.

Above the homeopathic shop, we had only two other neighbors, one of whom owned the place and ran the shop during the day. His name was Howard. We never saw our other neighbor, but Mom said she was an elderly woman.

As soon as the cool air hit my face, I had to blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. It was dark, but not as dark as I’d imagined.

There weren’t many people on the sidewalks, so I kept my head down with my hood up, walking quickly to Mr. Chang’s. I was about a block away when I stumbled and nearly stepped on a cat.

To say I felt silly about the whole ordeal was an understatement.

The cat looked lazily up at me, and I was tempted to kick it before I realized it was my own nervousness and clumsiness that had caused me to nearly step on it in the first place. So, really, it wasn’t the cat’s fault.

As I entered Mr. Chang’s with my face mask on, which I’d pulled out of my pocket before stepping inside, the warmth of the restaurant enveloped me, chasing away any lingering fears.

I almost felt like laughing at myself, in fact. This was just like daytime; only that cats apparently liked to sleep on the less crowded streets.

“Pickup or dine in?” the hostess asked as I approached.

“Pickup. Anya.”

“Anya…ah. Your order should be ready. I’ll go check in the back,” she said after scanning a pickup list, and disappeared into the back kitchen.

Moments later, she returned with a large plastic bag filled with the world’s most delicious takeout. Handmade dumplings, rice, beef and broccoli, hot and spicy soup, along with some red bean buns.

It was a semi-American order with a clear Asian twist.

Their hot and spicy soup was out of this world, delicious, and the perfect pick-me-up whenever I was sick—filled with tofu, sprouts, and a bunch of other things I didn’t recognize, let alone cared about.

The first time I saw it, I was a little put off by the brown color for a hot and spicy soup since I’d been used to it being red everywhere else. But once the smell hit my nose, I never looked back. It was heaven.

I’d originally planned to order noodles—this was likely the last time I’d eat out again before I left for college—but noodles over a keyboard was too messy to even consider.

I had more serious gaming to do once I was home, and with what I’d bought, I could graze and play most of the night without ruining my keyboard.

“Thank you!” I told the hostess cheerfully before leaving. With a grin on my face, I stepped back into the chilly night air and headed back to the apartment.

As I stood there, waiting for the light to change, I found myself humming a tune under my breath. A man, who looked a few years older than me, joined me at the crosswalk.

I was in a good mood, but I still tried to avoid making eye contact. I reminded myself that he wasn’t a threat. Just because it was night and he was a man didn’t automatically make him a creep.

He was dressed in a sharp suit and kept glancing at his watch, as if he was running late. I was clearly not on his radar, which helped me relax a bit as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

Suddenly, I heard him sniff the air, which made me glance his way.

Still high on my food victory, I lifted my takeout bag a bit, grinning. Partly because I wanted to share my joy, but also because I was curious about this potential billionaire standing next to me.

If I could get him to try Mr. Chang’s, it would be a win for the restaurant. Word-of-mouth advertising for great food is always a good thing.

“Mr. Chang’s,” I offered, holding up the bag and flashing him a smile.

I had my hood down, and we were standing a respectful distance apart, neither of us wearing a mask. It wasn’t as crucial as it used to be, but it was still considered polite.

“Their food is amazing.”

“Mmm…sounds good!” He agreed, his gaze settling on me.

I tried not to blush as I quickly looked away, back at the traffic light, which was still stubbornly red.

This man was built like a Greek god, with a chiseled chin, strong jaw, clean-shaven face, black hair, and captivating eyes that reminded me of a sunset. He was young enough to be a college student, just like I was about to be.

He looked Asian, but I knew better than to make assumptions based on appearances. Plus, his skin was flawless, making me a bit envious.

“You’re pretty young to be out this late, alone,” he commented, his tone curious.

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I laughed nervously, my voice squeaking a bit as I felt my cheeks heat up. “I’m an adult. And I live close by.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely interested.

I mentally kicked myself. This guy could be a serial killer, and I’d just told him I lived nearby. Great move.

“You should still be careful. With food that smells as good as that, you might attract all sorts of…undesirables.”

I let out a nervous giggle, unable to stop myself from glancing at him again. “Like dogs and stuff?” Way to go, Anya. Smooth.

He gave me a small, crooked smile. “Something like that.”

Finally, the light changed to the walk signal. We crossed the street, and he headed off in a different direction. But I could still feel his gaze on me for the next two blocks until I reached my building, my heart pounding in my chest.

I tried to calm myself as I hurried down the narrow hallway to my apartment. As soon as I closed and locked the door behind me, I had to sit down on the floor to catch my breath.

I had done it. I had broken my mom’s trust for the first time in my life, all for some takeout.

Totally worth it.