It was the weekend, Saturday, to be exact. 

Usually, Heather would be all wrapped up in her purple comforter, knee-deep in popcorn, and sitting in front of the TV with Anna, both of them watching How I Met Your Father reruns and drooling over their favorite characters. 

While Heather usually couldn’t stand real-life men, she had no problem appreciating the beauty of fictional characters. She was a female, after all, and had the inbuilt desire to compliment pretty things. 

This Saturday, however, she had scheduled a visit to her parents.

Anna had felt betrayed and said as much. 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me to talk with old people! I feel betrayed! Abandoned! Cast away like a used condom!” 

Heather laughed fondly from the doorstep. She had expected a reaction from Anna, but this was downright hilarious. 

“They’re not just any old people, you know. They’re my parents, Anna. Visiting them occasionally is mandatory offspring duty—not like you would know anything about it. Anyway, we can watch TV some other time.” 

Anna pouted, and Heather rolled her eyes. “I’ll buy you a pizza when I get back,” she added. 

“Now you’re talking. Add some ice cream, and we have a deal.” 

Heather shut the door in her roommate’s hopeful face with a grin. 

The weather outside was great. To Heather, it was an ideal day. Not too hot and not too sunny. Not cloudy either.  

Perfect for doing the laundry or going on a picnic. 

‘I should take Anna out for dinner sometime as an apology,’ Heather was saying to herself when she caught sight of a familiar face just as she was about to enter her car. 

“Is that...Zac?” she muttered. 

‘Oh no, I can’t let him see me, or I’ll be forced to make conversation for five awkward minutes,’ she thought and hurriedly hopped into her glossy, cherry-red car.

Most people who knew how practical Heather was were surprised to find out that she drove around such a flashy item. They’d imagined her ride to be either black or grey, like her predictable personality. 

She herself hated the colour and could easily sell it or get a replacement, but she’d vowed never to do so. 

It was a gift from her parents, and because of this, she held it dear, no matter how ugly she secretly thought it was. 

Having avoided being seen by her colleague, Heather started her car. 

She needed to wait for a few minutes so it could warm up, and in that time, she decided to spy on Zac. 

She told herself it was because she had nothing better to do, but really, she had developed a vague interest in the man. Not romantically, of course. Heavens forbid.

He was just smart and good at his job. In the one week he’d been at work, he’d done everything she’d asked him to do and more. It was like having the world’s best personal assistant. ‘It’s a shame he’s a guy,’ Heather thought, ‘We could’ve been friends.’

Zac was walking along the opposite side of the road, fitted in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He was talking to a teenage boy who was walking a dog. 

Neither of them seemed to have noticed the woman gawking at them from behind a rolled-up car window. 

Heather stared, looking at him properly for the first time. 

He was very tall—possibly over six feet— and lean too. Not very muscular, Heather thought with appreciation. Men with a lot of body mass often abandoned the use of their brains, choosing to solve all problems with their brawn instead. She liked that this meant she could probably have a decent conversation with him, then recoiled at this thought. 

‘What the bloody hell am I doing?’

And with that thought, she peeled her eyes off the man and drove off. 

After stopping to buy a small bottle of wine and a few fruits for her parents, Heather arrived at her childhood home. She sat in the car for a few minutes and steeled herself. 

It was awkward visiting her mom and dad. Neither of them knew exactly what to say to her, so they all just talked about work. Still, she wanted to spend time with her family. 

Taking a deep breath, Heather stepped out of the car and walked up the patio steps. 

Her mother opened the door before she knocked and gathered her daughter into a tight hug. 

“Heather, darling! We’re so glad you could make it. How are you? How is...erm...and how is...work?” 

Mrs. Juliet Namaki was a small woman, and it surprised people—including herself—that she’d birthed such a tall daughter. At 5’9, Heather easily towered over her mother and was almost the same height as her father. 

He came into the room to comment on this, and they also shared a hug. 

Heather took off her coat and went to the kitchen to help with breakfast. The conversation revolved around work, as usual. Juliet talked about her husband’s promotion, and Heather nodded, slightly bored. 

“And what about you, dear? Anything interesting at your workplace?” 

Heather shrugged. 

“My boss says if I keep it up, I could get a raise at the end of the year.” 

To Heather, it was uninteresting news. Her mother, though, was delighted with the information. 

“Congratulations, dear! You’ve grown up to be a fine young adult.” 

Heather stared out the window and wondered just how true that statement was. 

After breakfast was eaten and the dishes were done, the conversation about work had been well and truly talked to the bone. Uncomfortable, her parents bustled about picking things up and putting them down until Heather finally got the hint and left. 

Her mother watched her daughter hop into the car they’d gifted her and sighed. In her heart, she knew she hadn’t been the best mother, but she didn’t know what to do about it. 

“How was the visit?” Anna asked when Heather finally stumbled through their front door, pizza in hand. 

She took it from her, nodded satisfactorily, and looked at her roommate. “You look knackered. What happened?” 

Heather took off her shoes and hung up her coat. 

“Nothing out of ordinary, which is the point. Every time I visit, it’s always work, work, work.” 

Anna raised a slender eyebrow. “I thought you liked talking about your job. Why else do you try so hard if not to boast about it?” 

Heather collapsed onto their couch with a sigh. “That’s not the only reason. I wanted to have something in common with them. You’ve seen how passionate they are about their jobs. I thought we could maybe get along better, but it’s the same as always.”

Anna sat opposite her friend and took her small, manicured hands into hers. 

“Well, maybe you should try to take charge. If they knew they were doing something wrong, they wouldn’t have neglected you for all those years. Try to change the narrative next time you visit, okay? Suggest taking them out for dinner on a Friday instead of boring old breakfast.” 

Heather looked at Anna suspiciously. 

“Aren’t you just doing this so I stay home next weekend?” 

Anna laughed impishly. “So, what if I am? That’s a concrete solution to your problem, isn’t it?” 

They laughed together and started on the pizza. 

***

On the other side of town, Zac was saying goodbye to his older sister, Lisa. She’d called first thing in the morning, asking if he wouldn’t mind staying with Ian for a few hours while she did some shifts at the local thrift shop. It was volunteer work, and she didn’t know how to tell them no. Luckily for her, he was bored, so he agreed. Plus, Ian was good company for a seventeen-year-old.

They’d been walking and talking for about an hour—with Ian mostly preoccupied with a neighbor’s dog he’d offered to walk—when Zac spotted a familiar face. 

He could’ve sworn it was his supervisor, but the woman hopped into her car before he could get a good look at her. He was doubtful of it being her, though. It was a cherry red GIA. Definitely not what he pictured Heather driving. 

As he stepped out of Lisa’s house and hailed a taxi to get to his apartment, he started to think about Heather.

The woman intrigued him, and he had reason to believe she wasn’t as boring or evil as most people had told him she was. He’d seen her go the extra mile when it came to her work and admired her for it. Plus, because he had the luxury of sitting right next to her at work for most of the time, he got to see things no one else had. 

Her music playlist, for one. She was a fan of everything, ranging from heavy metal to rap and hip hop, classical music, R&B, and, even surprisingly, electronic instrumentals. 

‘A woman who had such versatile music taste couldn’t be all that bad,’ he thought. 

‘There is the slight problem of her aversion to men, though,’ he mused as the taxi pulled right up to his apartment building. 

He’d noticed she had no problem talking with Mr. Igalmen but scowled every time she had to come in contact with some other male. 

Including him.

Paying the driver and walking up the steps to his home, he absent-mindedly greeted his neighbors and stepped into his apartment. 

The solution was simple. ‘I just have to gain her trust, don’t I?’