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I grabbed my keys from the bowl by the door and headed out. My flip-flops clapped on my feet as I walked down the two steps in the common hallway, then out the first door into the vestibule. There were mailboxes on either side. I pushed open the last glass door, heading into the night.
Sunlight peaked over the lower buildings, but most of the street was bathed in shadows as I headed to the nearby Thai restaurant. Pad Thai had seemed like such an easy recipe when I found it online. I figured now that I didn’t have the crazy hospital hours, I would learn to cook. Trying to find some good in my new situation.
But it hadn’t worked. It left me feeling more defeated than ever. Or maybe it had been my non-conversation with my mother earlier. Or the loneliness.
I should call Brad.
My lip curled, and I pushed away the thought as I pulled the door to the restaurant open. It was only a few minutes from my apartment.
“Burn dinner again?” The eighteen-year-old girl behind the counter asked with a sarcastic twist to her lips.
It was a small takeout place that had one long counter with a door behind it leading into the kitchen. Years of sun exposure had faded the pictures above the register.
“I don’t know why you’d say that, Sue.” My eyes narrowed playfully. “I just felt like noodles.”
She threw her head back and laughed. She gestured towards my clothes. “I can smell it on you.”
My lips pursed as I picked up my shirt collar and sniffed. I didn’t smell anything, but that was probably because my nose was trying to save me.
“How many times have I told you? Just give it up.” She shook her head.
“I have a doctorate. I can learn.” I insisted as I moved closer to the counter.
“Some people aren’t meant to cook.” She started clicking my order on the screen. “Usual, I assume?”
“You know I don’t need this abuse.” But we both knew I was kidding. “There’s like ten other restaurants on this block.”
“Yeah, but they don’t make it extra spicy like you like.”
I narrowed my eyes again. That was true. I sighed, handing over my credit card. She zipped it through the machine with a smile. Before she’d even handed me the receipt, the door to the kitchen opened.
“Is that Lark?” Greg, Sue’s older brother and the cook, popped his head out. “Burn dinner, again?”
“Oh, my god.” I threw my hands up. “You’re acting like it’s every week.” They both raised a brow at me. “Twice a month. Max!” They laughed. They were right. I’d had to replace a lot of burnt pans. “Just get me my food.”
Their laughter made me smile. Brad had never liked this place. He preferred more refined dining, but the food was better here. I chatted with Sue about her starting college in the fall. And before I knew it, Greg brought out a plastic bag tied into a bow.
“See you next time you burn dinner.” He called as I walked out the door. I glared, but resisted the urge to flip them off.
My steps were a little lighter as I headed back home until I realized some acquaintances at my favorite takeout place knew more about me than my mother. I tried to shove the feeling down. Pulling a deep breath into my lungs, I smelled the scent of food that wasn’t burnt.
It soothed something inside me. I just needed a good meal and some rest. Tomorrow would be a better day.
The sun had set, and streetlights were popping on as I walked. They cast a yellow glow onto the pavement as I moved down the street. My spine tingled as I passed the mouth of an alley. My thoughts pulled me to two weeks ago.
I wondered again how my savior was doing. It wouldn’t be too hard to find out. I could go to the club and ask for him.
But I hadn’t. And I wasn’t sure why.
As I reached my apartment door, I juggled the food in one hand, digging for my keys with the other. The light above the door flickered, making my eyes twitch with each burst of light.
Suddenly, I was being ripped back. A scream tore from my lips as my food went flying. I watched the container pop open. Noodles and chicken splashed onto the sidewalk as a hand gripped my mouth, stifling my screech.
My muscles tightened in fear. My eyes watered from how roughly his fingers dug into my flesh. Instead of my dinner, I smelt sweat and body odor like he hadn’t showered in days.
Terror clawed at my chest as my feet lifted off the stone steps. I kicked them wildly in the air. A zap of satisfaction rushed through me as I connected with my attacker’s shin. He grunted in pain.
The feeling was short-lived as his arm dropped from my waist to my upper thighs, locking me in place against his body. Nausea rolled through my stomach. I was helpless to scream. To ask why he was doing this. Who he was.
