“I’m so hungry!”   Shuya laughed a little as he looked over at Frankie, who was busy adjusting the small bag in her hand.   “Okay…what did you have in mind?”   “Um…Chinese food?” Frankie guessed.   “Alright, pick a restaurant.”   “See, that’s the problem,” Frankie said with a laugh. “There’s, like, six hundred Chinese restaurants here!” It was a Saturday night and they were out again, alone this time, for their solo date. They were a couple of hours in and in the heart of Chinatown, on a simple, no pressure outing; roaming the streets of the neighborhood and picking up random things for cheap at the dozens of stores they passed.   “You’re in luck,” Shuya told her, pointing in her direction. “I happen to know a really great place in Chinatown.”   “You do?” He nodded. “Oh, thank God; after you, sir.” With a laugh Shuya took her hand in his, watching her eyebrows raise as he interlaced their fingers.   “Allow me, my lady.” With a smile Frankie walked with him, allowing him to lead her through the streets of Chinatown to the New Lun Ting Café on Jackson Street, a place he, his brothers and his friends had frequented often. The restaurant was small and modest, but it was great; Frankie seemed to be fine with it either way. They were seated at a table and given a few moments with the menus before placing their orders: sweet and sour pork and beef chow fun.   “It smells so good in here,” Frankie declared wistfully, sighing. “I haven’t eaten since this afternoon.”   “Why not?”   “I was doing homework,” Frankie said with a shrug, then paused, her pretty lashes lowering to her cheeks as she looked downward. “…And I was a little nervous.”   “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Shuya questioned. “We could’ve eaten when we got here.”   “I wasn’t hungry yet,” she said, then patted her stomach. “Nerves.”   “So…you’re not nervous anymore?” Shuya inquired, raising an eyebrow and leaning towards her from his side of the table.   “No, not really,” Frankie