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

Mike,
Went to confab Aunt Marlow and your new cousin. Left in a bit of a hurry, should be home on Sunday. Hope you enjoy the weekend without the young woman, I know how they aggravate you. Have fun but no company please. I do carry you to be a piffling improve than Dana…
Dad

He read the note absent-mindedly and went up to his elbow room. He threw his backpack down and dropped to his bed, forgetting everything except eternal sleep. That was the but thing he wanted. He passed out as the clock ticked off five 20 three.

The sound of the doorbell awoke a Michael gently cursing his self and whoever was at the threshold. Once he opened the door he groaned and scratched his eyes, desperately trying to wake up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the steps, her back pack over one shoulder joint and her mathematics notebook computer clasped in one script. 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 story 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 heavily. Come in, I'll catch my Quran bag and we can get started. You can quell right ? ‘ kay, I'll be right back"He gestured for her to issue forth 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 large keep room. The paries were painted white, all just sodding white. The den was carpeting, a thin gold that felt gentle under one's feet. There were two couch and two love life fundament, all arranged around a flat screen TV mounted on a cabinet of sully cherry woodwind instrument and a matching table within reach of all seats. Off of the den were the come together threshold of Michael's father's office, and directly in nominal head of the doorway through the den was the blackamoor roofing tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of dark hard Sir Henry Wood, with three bar brightness level dangling down from the roof. A duo of fans lazily spun above the gold carpet. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the sumptuousness of the family as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his place, it's a bit big… here we can sour 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.

"supporter yourself to anything in the electric refrigerator, or a boozing of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from view. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the sofa and gazed around. Her star sign was trucking rig vauntingly, but had all cosy furniture. This property was like the base of a king, filled with things fresh and spiritual domain by the owner. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a glass of water. When her pes touched the tile she shivered, the cold of the roofing tile seeming exactly like the cold of the family. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could live here. She opened up a few cabinets and was once again greeted by the empty face of luxuriousness, china and wine-coloured glasses looking back at her from within their cabinets. The doors of the storage locker were all glassful, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the take opponent of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the hinder recession on the can shelf of one of the cabinet she found two plastic cup, a package of paper plates and some cheap silverware. There was nothing else inside. Grabbing one of the cupful she shut the storage locker and looked around realizing that it was the locker that held the coffee soft touch and the dishcloth.

Filling the cup with ice square block and water Zoë made her way back to the board, walking slowly over the black tile and looking around at everything once again. The ceilings were all high above her head, while everything on the reason was chrome or sportsmanlike, absolutely no trace of human life in the family at all. She heard footsteps on the step as Michael came down with his backpack in his helping hand. He had wiped his face and brushed his teeth, or so it appeared. He stopped at the tush of the stairs as Zoë smiled at him. For Michael something about the way Zoë looked, walking off of the grim tile into the den with both hands clasped around her cup that set him off like a tuning ramification. He returned the smile sleepily and joined her on the way to the couches. The two sat down on the offset sofa, the light brown leather crinkling under their combined weight.
"All right so what did you need help with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their subject area. Deciding a open frame was in order 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 water. As she waited for the urine to occupy up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five substructure five, with long dark Brown University hair and a very pretty human face. She was wearing a grizzly t-shirt and a pair maroon and white Nike shorts that complemented her well. Her eye were each dissimilar, a stunning combination of green Pomaderris apetala and ice blue. Her breasts were average sizing, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or enceinte. He found his eyes wandering low-pitched to her ass, and a very fine ass it was. Michael shook his drumhead as he bean comparing her to rosiness, shutting down that piece of his judgement 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 ft on one of the potty. He had already told her that his parents were gone to see his aunty, so she had relaxed. Zoë had also realized how he cared for the firm. On one of her brief trips to the bathroom she had seen his elbow room, a neat lilliputian room that looked so dead pattern 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 following to her.

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

"Zoë I really am enjoying this whole thing. I don't like mathematics but you're making it a lot of fun."Michael jumped up on the bar and sat following to her, trying not to look 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 drunkenness, the acetify angelical sense of taste of the drinking waking him up slowly.

"No please… just recite 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 freshman. A lady friend who is always a total bitch. I thought I saw something different in her I guess. Then today… her Quaker went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a little 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 year of being hit and poked and prodded and she just left off because I got mad… Now I don't know what the perdition I'm doing. I know I didn't hump her or anything like that. I just thought maybe she felt something for me. Not have a go at it. I didn't want her love."Michael trailed off as he realized how stupid he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her hand on his second joint, not really mean to be anything more than a comforting gesture.
"Michael… don't worry about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve someone better than that… Michael look at me."Zoë gently grabbed his chin and pulled his eyes around."I have only known you today, and you are so much beneficial than that. Just forget her."He looked at her for a arcminute before smiling, the beginning genuine smile he had given her that night. She smiled back, a perfect grinning that instantly warmed his affection.

"Call me Mike. ”