Adele hummed along to the mindless pop song playing along on the radio as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time to the synthesized drum beats, waiting patiently at a stop light. A Friday night spent shopping by herself while Joaquin was having dinner with her American friends and Joel was busily cruising the local bars for women to reject him.

The light turned green and she moved onwards, flicking on her turn signal as she neared the intersection. A man in a dirty pickup truck two lanes over suddenly decided he needed to make a left-hand turn as well, and swerved into her lane without bothering to check if anyone else happened to be in the space he wanted to occupy. With a startled shriek, Adele slammed on her brakes and swerved away from the truck, barely missing the left-hand corner of the truck bed and the newly planted tree at the curb. It was hard, however, not to notice the loud “thunk” that came from somewhere near the back end of her car.

She swallowed hard, braced herself, and looked in her wing mirror to see a wheel spinning theatrically as the bicycle it was attached to lay crumpled against the curb. “Shit,” she squeaked and hastily put the car in park, only remembering after she’d gotten one foot out the door to flip on her hazard lights. “Oh god,” she gasped, hurrying to the cyclist who was lifting himself off the ground and trying to right his bike. “I’m so, so sorry, are you hurt, do you need an ambulance, I’m sorry, that bastard was—Aidan!”

“Oh, hi Adele,” he said, giving her a surprised smile as he took off his helmet. “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me, I saw what that bastard did, no fault of yours, I’m just glad to see you’re not hurt.”

“Me? Yeah, fine, just—” A passing driver honked irritably at them. “I should probably get my car out of the middle of the road.”

“Yes,” Aidan agreed, lifting his bicycle onto the curb, “one near miss is probably all we need for one day.”

“Your bike,” Adele gasped, finally noticing the flat and slightly bent front tire. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, I ran into you,” he said with a nervous chuckle as he ran one raw palm against his pants, which were scuffed very badly along one knee. He looked just as shaken up as she felt.

“Where are you headed, I’ll take you there, it’s the least I can do. I’ll pay to have your wheel fixed too. I’m sure we could get the bike into my car.”

Aidan paused. He obviously didn’t have much choice; Adele didn’t know where he lived, but it had to be too far to walk with a broken bicycle. “How about you buy me a drink and we’ll call it even?” he suggested, gesturing across the street to a coffee shop. “Calm our nerves, then you can take me and the bike home.”

Another blaring car horn. “That’s a very good idea,” Adele nodded.

Joaquin wandered cautiously to the door to Leo’s apartment, wondering if it was too late to go home and feign some tropical disease. But if she did, Leo would drive her insane at work with his grumbling at her. She chose the lesser of the two evils and knocked.

“Jo,” Leo greeted her with a grin as he opened the door. “Thanks for coming,” he added as he lead her into the living room, “I want to introduce you to my friend.”

“Can’t wait,” Joaquin said dully. They made it to the living room where a man sat on the couch hunched over a magazine.

“Jo, this is Ben,” Leo perked, and the man sat up and looked her up and down. She smiled politely and nodded curtly when she realized he wasn’t going to shake her hand. He was built tall and wide, probably called “strapping” when he was growing up. Dark hair, cut short in that utilitarian way baseball players are accustomed to, probably to keep their helmets from falling off. His smile was more arrogant than friendly, and even without the San Francisco 49ers football jersey and terribly mismatched board shorts, he radiated Jock. “And he’s not a Republican. Ben, this is Joaquin, and she’s not a hippie.”

“Joaquin, huh?” Ben mused, leaning further into the couch. “How’d you get a name like that?”

“My parents are flaming loonies, I don’t want to get into it. Please, call me Jo.”

He shrugged and reached for the remote control. “She’s from San Fran too,” Leo added, obviously trying to get a dialogue started.

“It’s San Francisco,” Ben pointed out sternly, “home of the 49ers and the Giants.”

“Actually I’m from Oakland,” Joaquin corrected, “other side of the bay. Home of…something involving an elephant?”

“The Oakland Athletics,” Ben said, “who haven’t won a Pennant in ages.”

“They had McGuire though,” Leo pointed out as he came from the kitchen, handing Joaquin a soda.

“Right,” she nodded as she settled into an armchair, not entirely sure what they were talking about.

“Giants won the National League Pennant in 2002,” Ben declared proudly.

“Lost the Series to the Angels though,” Leo chuckled.

“Yeah, shut up,” Ben grumbled and took a drink from his beer.

“Oakland’s also got the Raiders, but that hardly counts because they stole them from us in LA,” Leo pouted.

“You can have them back,” Joaquin offered.

“You’re not a Raiders fan?” Ben asked, suddenly willing to let her into the conversation. “Who do you like then?”

“I think football is a barbaric metaphor for war that shouldn’t be glorified, I just know that I got very sick of the rich kids at my high school dressing in silver and black wanting to look like gang bangers, it was just so idiotic.”

“They’re an overrated team, totally,” Ben nodded to himself.

Joaquin closed her eyes. This was going to be a very long evening.

“How long have you and Jo known each other?” Aidan asked Adele after thanking her for the coffee she’d purchased while he went off to clean himself up a bit.

“Since she got to Australia, about a year ago. Met each other by chance and we’ve been annoying each other ever since. She’s quite upset with me for asking you to dinner, by the way.”

“She is? Maybe I shouldn’t come,” he said, putting down his mug.

“Oh no, we’d both love for you to come. It’s just, you know Jo,” Adele smiled, “she’s the nervous type. Probably afraid you won’t approve of the artwork on the walls or something.”

”She’ll probably knock over the dining room table,” he smirked.

“So how long have you been a teacher?” Adele asked, anxious to move the subject away from her flatmate’s neuroses.

“A few years now. I like it a lot more than I thought I would.”

“You didn’t set out to be a teacher then?”

“Very few artists set out to be teachers, it’s something we do to survive while waiting to be successful.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, Jo thinks you’re a fantastic teacher.”

“I’m glad,” Aidan smiled.

“You know she’s only working in design to make ends meet too.”

“Jo would make a great studio artist if she had the confidence to pursue it,” he agreed.

“That’s what I keep telling her,” Adele shrugged.

“So what is it you do?”

“I’m in the same boat, really. I’m a writer working in publishing. But if I have to be in the boat of squandered talent, at least I’ve got some decent company,” she smiled.

“It’s probably better if we’re all in the same boat, at least we can’t run over each other that way,” he chuckled, “we can avoid banged up knees.”

“Until some other arsehole boat driver cuts us off or Jo does something to sink the boat.”

“I hate to say it but she probably would, wouldn’t she,” Aidan laughed.

“Especially if you’re around,” Adele agreed.

“Can I beat him with your manuals anyway?” Joaquin asked as she came into the kitchen to get another soda from the refrigerator as Leo was slicing a tomato for the hamburgers he was barbecuing on his tiny patio.

“Jo, come on, give the guy a break, he’s really a great guy once you get to know him.”

“He’s quite possibly the biggest moron I’ve ever had the dissatisfaction of being forced to share a living room with since I moved out of my parents’ place. I find myself suddenly remembering why I was so anxious to leave the US — it was full of men that thought I was supposed to be impressed by stupid macho antics, and I’m really just not.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“So far he’s enchanted me with stories about his district championship high school baseball catcher career, his scholarship to UCLA as a football running back, and how disappointed he is because he hasn’t seen any bizarre Australian animals. Oh, and I’m supposed to bring him back a beer.”

“He’s really a great guy once you get to know him.”

“Sure, if you like talking about how much you can bench press.”

“Please Jo, just try to be nice.”

“I’m being as nice as I can without my head exploding,” she said as he handed her the plate of burger fixings.

“Guess that’s all I can ask for,” Leo sighed as he grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and headed back into the living room, where he announced the burgers were almost done and suggested they head out to the patio while he finished them up. Jo and Ben settled at the small plastic table outside and watched Leo work in the most uncomfortable of silences.

“So Jo,” Leo perked, unable to take the quiet any longer. “What do you miss most about the States?”

She thought for a moment. “Probably Tootsie Rolls and seasons being in the right order. Christmas in the middle of summer really is just so wrong. What about you?”

“I miss driving on the right side of the road,” Leo said with a chuckle. “Damn left-handed cars. What about you, Ben?”

“I miss my car,” Ben pouted.

“Your car,” Jo echoed.

“Yeah, brand new steel grey Hummer. Tricked out H2. Biggest thing on the road, you could knock over a tree if it got in your way.”

Jo smirked at him.

“What?” Ben demanded.

“I’ve figured you out.”

“Huh?”

“Does the term ‘compensatory factor’ mean anything to you?”

“Should it?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, it’s nothing, never mind, ignore me.” She took a drink from her soda and raised an eyebrow at Leo.

Ben looked around, confused. Leo sighed. “She’s saying you’ve got a small dick, man. Women think if a man has a big fancy car he’s making up for a little package.”

Ben opened his mouth to say something, obviously thought better of it, and snapped it closed again. “Are the burgers almost done?” he grumbled. “I’m gonna need another beer.” The other two watched as he sulked back into the flat.

“Joaquin Bliss,” Leo snapped in a way that was far too much like her grandmother. “You said you’d be nice.”

“You’re the one who told him, I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“God, I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I’ll bet it’s true,” she mused almost to herself. “I mean he wouldn’t have taken it so hard if it wasn’t.”

“We’re so not friends anymore,” Leo sighed and went back to flipping his hamburgers.