When Michael got home the clock ticked five eighteen. The house was completely discharge, except for a musical note on the counter.

mike,
Went to chatter Aunt Marlow and your new cousin. Left in a bit of a hurry, should be home on Sunday. promise you enjoy the weekend without the girls, I know how they aggravate you. Have fun but no parties please. I do expect you to be a little salutary than Dana…
Dad

He read the note absent-mindedly and went up to his room. He threw his back pack down and dropped to his bed, forgetting everything except eternal sleep. That was the only matter he wanted. He passed out as the clock ticked off five twenty three.

The audio of the doorbell awoke a Michael gently cursing his self and whoever was at the door. Once he opened the door he groaned and scratched his oculus, desperately trying to come alive up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the footmark, her rucksack over one shoulder and her math notebook clasped in one hand. She smiled when he opened the threshold though it quickly was replaced with a side of concern.
"Michael… sorry did I wake you up ? ? You didn't show up, so I looked you up online and saw that tale about… I'll go. I'm sorry for bothering you !"

"No, no ! Please, Zoë, stay. I'm sorry I just… had something happen after shoal and it wore me down pretty hard. Come in, I'll snatch my playscript bag and we can get started. You can delay right ? ‘ kay, I'll be right back"He gestured for her to come inside as she started back down the stair. She stepped in a bit nervously. Kicking off her shoes on the tile entryway the two stepped into the big livelihood way. The walls were painted Elwyn Brooks White, all just arrant blanched. The den was carpet, a thin atomic number 79 that felt gentle under one's feet. There were two couches and two love seats, all arranged around a flat screen TV mounted on a storage locker of tarnish cherry tree wood and a matching table within scope of all nates. Off of the den were the close doors of Michael's father's office, and directly in social movement of the room access through the den was the black tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of dark knockout Mrs. Henry Wood, with three bar ignitor dangling down from the cap. A twain of fans lazily spun above the gold carpeting. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the luxury of the family as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his home, it's a bit big… here we can run on the table. I'll just go up and get my bag… I'll be compensate back I promise."As he made his way slowly up the stone's throw he remembered something else and turned.

"supporter yourself to anything in the fridge, or a drunkenness of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from view. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the sofa and gazed around. Her house was semi tumid, but had all cozy furniture. This place was like the home of a Rex, filled with thing fresh and unobserved by the owner. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a glass of water system. When her invertebrate foot touched the tile she shivered, the cold of the tile seeming exactly like the cold of the home. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could survive here. She opened up a few cabinets and was once again greeted by the hollow facial expression of luxury, chinaware and wine glasses looking back at her from within their cabinet. The doors of the locker were all crank, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the exact opposite of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the book binding corner on the arse ledge of one of the cabinet she found two plastic cups, a package of paper crustal plate and some crummy silverware. There was nothing else inside. Grabbing one of the cup she shut the cabinet and looked around realizing that it was the console that held the burnt umber gull and the dishrag.

Filling the cup with ice third power and water Zoë made her way back to the table, walking slowly over the black tiles and looking around at everything once again. The ceilings were all high above her point, while everything on the land was chrome or clean and jerk, absolutely no trace of human spirit in the home at all. She heard footsteps on the stairs as Michael came down with his back pack in his deal. He had wiped his expression and brushed his teeth, or so it appeared. He stopped at the merchant ship of the stair as Zoë smiled at him. For Michael something about the way Zoë looked, walking off of the black tile into the den with both workforce clasped around her cup that set him off like a tuning fork. He returned the smiling sleepily and joined her on the way to the lounge. The two sat down on the outset sofa, the light John Brown leather crinkling under their commingle weight.
"All right so what did you ask help oneself with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their subject area. Deciding a breaking was in ordination they journeyed to the kitchen and refilled their drinks. Michael pulled a liter of lemonade from the fridge and filled his, watching as Zoë filled her cup with ice and pee. As she waited for the water supply to fulfill up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five groundwork five, with long dark dark-brown hair and a very pretty typeface. She was wearing a gray T-shirt and a pair maroon and white Nike underdrawers that complemented her well. Her eyes were each different, a stunning compounding of green hazelnut tree and ice wild blue yonder. Her knocker were modal size, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or larger. He found his eyes wandering lower to her ass, and a very fine ass it was. Michael shook his head as he bean comparing her to Rose, shutting down that character of his mind and putting the lemonade back in the electric refrigerator. She turned and smiled at him, walking across and sitting on the bar while setting her feet on one of the stools. He had already told her that his parents were gone to see his aunt, so she had relaxed. Zoë had also realized how he cared for the sign. On one of her abbreviated trip-up to the bathroom she had seen his room, a neat small room that looked so utterly normal it had caused her to smile. Michael tried half heartedly to smile back but the attempt quickly failed. He sat down on a bar stood next to her.

"Michael…"At the phone of Zoë's articulation he snapped up. She was looking down at him with ha genuine care, almost pity in her oculus."Are you okay ? You've been either really tired or really sad this whole clock time. I feel kind of bad for asking you to do this when you really don't seem like you want to…"She looked away from his falsely attentive regard, the sheepishness returning as she spoke.

"Zoë I really am enjoying this hale thing. I don't like math but you're making it a lot of fun."Michael jumped up on the bar and sat next to her, trying not to front directly into her eyes."I just… I made a mistake and… I'm sorry you really don't want to hear about this."He took a sip of his deglutition, the sour perfumed taste of the deglutition waking him up slowly.

"No please… just narrate me ! It's okay… I wont say anything I promise. If it helps… William Tell me."Michael looked lazily at Zoë against his own will. He wanted her. He wanted to see something in those optic besides pity.

"I made the mistake of… hooking up… with a starter. A female child who is always a sum up bitch. I thought I saw something dissimilar in her I speculation. Then today… her booster went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a piffling mad… I got mad enough to cuss her four friends out and call the one who slapped me a c… a slut… and now she doesn't want anything to do with me. It's over because I lost myself for a instant. After an entire year of being hit and poked and prodded and she just left off because I got mad… Now I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I know I didn't love her or anything like that. I just thought maybe she felt something for me. Not love. I didn't want her love."Michael trailed off as he realized how stupid he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her mitt on his second joint, not really imply to be anything more than a cheering gesture.
"Michael… don't concern about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve mortal full than that… Michael aspect at me."Zoë gently grabbed his Kuki-Chin and pulled his eyes around."I have only known you today, and you are so much ripe than that. Just forget her."He looked at her for a mo before smiling, the initiatory genuine smile he had given her that night. She smiled back, a perfect smile that instantly warmed his substance.

"Call me mike. ”