When Michael got home the clock ticked five eighteen. The mansion was completely void, except for a notation on the counter.

Mike,
Went to visit Aunt Marlow and your new cousin. Left in a bit of a haste, should be home on Sunday. Hope you enjoy the weekend without the young woman, I know how they aggravate you. Have fun but no political party please. I do wait you to be a minuscule better than Dana…
Dad

He read the bill absent-mindedly and went up to his elbow room. He threw his backpack down and dropped to his bed, forgetting everything except sleep. That was the lonesome affair he wanted. He passed out as the clock ticked off five XX three.

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

"No, no ! Please, Zoë, stay. I'm sorry I just… had something happen after school and it wore me down pretty hard. Come in, I'll grab my book bag and we can get started. You can stay right ? ‘ kay, I'll be rectify back"He gestured for her to total inside as she started back down the steps. She stepped in a bit nervously. Kicking off her shoes on the tile entryway the two stepped into the heavy living room. The walls were painted white, all just virgin white. The den was carpet, a dilute atomic number 79 that felt patrician under one's feet. There were two couches and two love seats, all arranged around a flat covert TV mounted on a cabinet of varnished cerise wood and a matching board within scope of all seating area. Off of the den were the closed doors of Michael's father's role, and directly in front of the room access through the den was the black tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of benighted punishing wood, with three bar brightness level dangling down from the cap. A pair of fans lazily spun above the Au rug. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the sumptuosity of the home as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his plaza, it's a bit big… here we can function on the table. I'll just go up and get my bag… I'll be right back I promise."As he made his way slowly up the steps he remembered something else and turned.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge, or a boozing of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from view. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the lounge and gazed around. Her planetary house was tractor trailer large, but had all cozy article of furniture. This lieu was like the home plate of a king, filled with thing unused and unseen by the owner. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a deoxyephedrine of urine. When her feet touched the tile she shivered, the cold of the tile seeming exactly like the frigidity of the home. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could live on here. She opened up a few console and was once again greeted by the hole grimace of lavishness, china and wine-colored trash looking back at her from within their cabinets. The doorway of the storage locker were all glass, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the exact opposite of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the backrest corner on the bottom shelf of one of the locker she found two plastic cups, a software program of composition plates and some crummy silverware. There was nothing else inside. Grabbing one of the cups she shut the cabinet and looked around realizing that it was the cabinet that held the chocolate mugs and the dishrags.

Filling the cup with ice cubes and body of water Zoë made her way back to the mesa, walking slowly over the pitch-dark tiles and looking around at everything once again. The roof were all high above her head teacher, while everything on the ground was chrome or houseclean, absolutely no ghost of man biography in the home at all. She heard pace on the step as Michael came down with his backpack in his hand. He had wiped his face and brushed his tooth, or so it appeared. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs as Zoë smiled at him. For Michael something about the way Zoë looked, walking off of the black tile into the den with both hands clasped around her cup that set him off like a tuning fork. He returned the smile sleepily and joined her on the way to the sofa. The two sat down on the first sofa, the light brown leather crinkling under their immix weight.
"All right so what did you need help with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their work. Deciding a faulting was in society they journeyed to the kitchen and refilled their drink. Michael pulled a cubic decimetre of lemonade from the fridge and filled his, watching as Zoë filled her cup with ice and water. As she waited for the piddle to take up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five foot five, with long dingy brown haircloth and a very pretty face. She was wearing a gray jersey and a duad maroon and white Nike trunks that complemented her well. Her eyes were each different, a stunning combination of green hazel and ice blue. Her breasts were average size of it, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or larger. He found his eye wandering frown to her ass, and a very fine ass it was. Michael shook his head as he bean comparing her to Rose, shutting down that voice of his mind and putting the lemonade back in the fridge. She turned and smiled at him, walking across and sitting on the bar while setting her infantry 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 house. On one of her brief misstep to the bathroom she had seen his way, a neat slight room that looked so absolutely normal it had caused her to smile. Michael tried one-half heartedly to smile back but the effort quickly failed. He sat down on a bar stood succeeding to her.

"Michael…"At the strait of Zoë's voice he snapped up. She was looking down at him with ha genuine concern, almost ruth in her eyes."Are you okay ? You've been either really tired or really sad this whole 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 gaze, the sheepishness returning as she spoke.

"Zoë I really am enjoying this whole affair. I don't like maths but you're making it a lot of fun."Michael jumped up on the bar and sat side by side to her, trying not to look directly into her eyes."I just… I made a misunderstanding and… I'm sorry you really don't want to try about this."He took a sip of his drink, the sourness sweet taste of the beverage waking him up slowly.

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

"I made the mistake of… hooking up… with a newbie. A young woman who is always a total bitch. I thought I saw something different in her I conjecture. Then today… her protagonist went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a niggling 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 moment. After an entire twelvemonth 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 dolt he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her hand on his second joint, not really think of to be anything more than a soothe gesture.
"Michael… don't worry about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve someone considerably than that… Michael look at me."Zoë gently grabbed his mentum and pulled his eyes around."I have only known you today, and you are so much considerably than that. Just bury her."He looked at her for a minute of arc before smiling, the kickoff genuine smile he had given her that night. She smiled back, a perfect smile that instantly warmed his heart.

"Call me mike. ”