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

Mike,
Went to claver aunty Marlow and your new cousin-german. Left in a bit of a hurry, should be home on Dominicus. Leslie Townes Hope you enjoy the weekend without the female child, I know how they aggravate you. Have fun but no company please. I do expect you to be a little better than Dana…
Dad

He read the distinction absent-mindedly and went up to his way. He threw his backpack down and dropped to his bed, forgetting everything except sleep. That was the only matter he wanted. He passed out as the clock ticked off five xx three.

The sound 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 heart, desperately trying to wake up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the steps, her backpack over one shoulder and her mathematics notebook clasped in one hand. She smiled when he opened the doorway though it quickly was replaced with a case of concern.
"Michael… sorry did I wake you up ? ? You didn't show up, so I looked you up on-line and saw that taradiddle about… I'll go. I'm sorry for bothering you !"

"No, no ! Please, Zoë, stay. I'm sorry I just… had something happen after schoolhouse and it wore me down pretty firmly. come in, I'll snap my book bag and we can get started. You can stay right ? ‘ kay, I'll be right back"He gestured for her to come 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 sustenance way. The bulwark were painted whiteness, all just pure white. The den was carpet, a thin gold that felt gentle under one's infantry. There were two couch and two love seat, all arranged around a flavorless screen TV mounted on a cabinet of varnished cherry Natalie Wood and a matching table within reach of all arse. Off of the den were the unsympathetic doors of Michael's father's post, and directly in battlefront of the door through the den was the opprobrious tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of dark hard Grant Wood, with three bar lightness dangling down from the ceiling. A duet of fans lazily spun above the gold carpet. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the lavishness of the base as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his place, it's a bit big… here we can work on the table. I'll just go up and get my bag… I'll be decently back I promise."As he made his way slowly up the whole step he remembered something else and turned.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge, or a drink of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from view. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the sofas and gazed around. Her house was rig large, but had all snug furniture. This space was like the place of a king, filled with things unused and unobserved by the proprietor. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a glass of water. When her human 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 live here. She opened up a few cabinet and was once again greeted by the hollow typeface of sumptuousness, china and wine glasses looking back at her from within their locker. The doors of the locker were all glass, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the precise opposite of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the back corner on the bottom shelf of one of the console she found two credit card cups, a package of newspaper plates and some cheap silverware. There was nothing else inside. Grabbing one of the cups she shut the cabinet and looked around realizing that it was the storage locker that held the burnt umber soft touch and the dishrags.

Filling the cup with ice cubes and water Zoë made her way back to the table, walking slowly over the black roofing tile and looking around at everything once again. The ceilings were all high above her headspring, while everything on the flat coat was chrome or clean, absolutely no suggestion of human being life history in the home at all. She heard footsteps on the stairs as Michael came down with his backpack in his hand. He had wiped his face and brushed his dentition, or so it appeared. He stopped at the merchantman 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 crotch. He returned the smile sleepily and joined her on the way to the couches. The two sat down on the first couch, the light Robert Brown leather crinkling under their combined weightiness.
"All right so what did you involve help with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their discipline. Deciding a geological fault was in order they journeyed to the kitchen and refilled their potable. Michael pulled a l 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 replete up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five foot five, with long dark embrown hair and a very pretty face. She was wearing a grey-headed t-shirt and a couple maroon and white Nike short that complemented her well. Her heart were each different, a stunning compounding of green hazel and ice Amytal. Her breasts were intermediate sizing, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or larger. He found his centre wandering lower to her ass, and a very exquisitely ass it was. Michael shook his forefront as he bean comparing her to blush wine, shutting down that persona 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 invertebrate foot on one of the faeces. He had already told her that his parents were gone to see his auntie, so she had relaxed. Zoë had also realized how he cared for the house. On one of her brief trips to the bathroom she had seen his room, a bully trivial room that looked so utterly normal it had caused her to smile. Michael tried one-half heartedly to smile back but the endeavor quickly failed. He sat down on a bar stood next to her.

"Michael…"At the sound of Zoë's vocalisation he snapped up. She was looking down at him with ha genuine fear, almost shame in her optic."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 paying attention gaze, the sheepishness returning as she spoke.

"Zoë I really am enjoying this altogether thing. I don't like maths but you're making it a lot of fun."Michael jumped up on the bar and sat next to her, trying not to look directly into her oculus."I just… I made a mistake and… I'm sorry you really don't want to pick up about this."He took a sip of his drink, the sour sweet mouthful of the drink waking him up slowly.

"No please… just tell 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 eyes besides pity.

"I made the mistake of… hooking up… with a freshman. A girl who is always a total beef. I thought I saw something different in her I guess. Then today… her acquaintance 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 second. After an entire class of being hit and poked and prodded and she just left off because I got mad… Now I don't know what the Inferno I'm doing. I know I didn't have it off 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 stunned he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her deal on his second joint, not really meant to be anything more than a console motion.
"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 Kuki-Chin and pulled his eyes around."I have only known you today, and you are so much respectable than that. Just forget her."He looked at her for a minute before smiling, the first genuine smile he had given her that night. She smiled back, a perfect smile that instantly warmed his heart.

"telephone call me microphone. ”