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

Mike,
Went to visit aunty Marlow and your new cousin. Left in a bit of a rushing, should be home on Sunday. Hope you enjoy the weekend without the daughter, I know how they aggravate you. Have fun but no parties please. I do anticipate you to be a slight adept than Dana…
Dad

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

The sound of the bell awoke a Michael gently cursing his self and whoever was at the door. Once he opened the doorway he groaned and scratched his eyes, desperately trying to wake up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the steps, her backpack over one berm 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 story about… I'll go. I'm sorry for bothering you !"

"No, no ! Please, Zoë, stop. I'm sorry I just… had something happen after shoal and it wore me down pretty hard. Come in, I'll snap my book bag and we can get started. You can stay put right ? ‘ kay, I'll be rectify back"He gestured for her to come up inside as she started back down the gradation. She stepped in a bit nervously. Kicking off her skid on the tile entryway the two stepped into the great support elbow room. The paries were painted white-hot, all just pure ovalbumin. The den was carpet, a slim down gold that felt gentle under one's feet. There were two lounge and two love seating room, all arranged around a savorless screen TV mounted on a cabinet of defile cherry Sir Henry Wood and a matching table within reach of all seats. Off of the den were the shut down doors of Michael's father's agency, and directly in figurehead of the door through the den was the nigrify tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of wickedness hard Natalie Wood, with three bar brightness level dangling down from the cap. A yoke of fan lazily spun above the gold carpet. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the luxury of the household as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his office, it's a bit big… here we can influence 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 electric refrigerator, or a boozing of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from sight. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the couch and gazed around. Her sign of the zodiac was semi boastfully, but had all cozy piece of furniture. This office was like the plate of a business leader, filled with things idle and spiritual world by the proprietor. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a glass of water. When her infantry touched the tile she shivered, the coldness of the tile seeming exactly like the cold of the domicile. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could live here. She opened up a few cabinet and was once again greeted by the holler face of luxury, china and wine-colored field glass looking back at her from within their cabinets. The doors of the storage 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 back corner on the seat shelf of one of the cabinet she found two credit card cups, a package of theme plates and some cheap silverware. There was nada else inside. Grabbing one of the cups she shut the cabinet and looked around realizing that it was the console that held the burnt umber countenance and the dishrag.

Filling the cup with ice cubes and water system Zoë made her way back to the board, walking slowly over the nigrify tiles and looking around at everything once again. The ceiling were all senior high school above her head, while everything on the ground was chrome or clean, absolutely no touch of human life in the nursing home at all. She heard footstep on the stair as Michael came down with his backpack in his helping hand. He had wiped his face and brushed his dentition, 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 fateful tile into the den with both hands 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 couch. The two sat down on the number one sofa, the light brown leather crinkling under their commingle weightiness.
"All right so what did you want aid with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their studies. Deciding a falling out was in order they journeyed to the kitchen and refilled their beverage. Michael pulled a liter of lemonade from the fridge and filled his, watching as Zoë filled her cup with ice and piss. As she waited for the water to fill up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five foot five, with long dark John Brown fuzz and a very middling aspect. She was wearing a gray t-shirt and a pair maroon and White person Nike short that complemented her well. Her heart were each different, a stunning combination of common hazelnut tree and ice blue angel. Her breasts were average size of it, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or larger. He found his center wandering bring down to her ass, and a very mulct ass it was. Michael shook his head as he bean comparing her to rosiness, shutting down that contribution 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 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 room, a neat little room that looked so utterly 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 future to her.

"Michael…"At the sound of Zoë's vocalization he snapped up. She was looking down at him with ha genuine care, almost pity in her eyes."Are you okay ? You've been either really tired or really sad this unit clock time. I feel sort 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 look directly into her eye."I just… I made a misunderstanding and… I'm sorry you really don't want to hear about this."He took a sip of his drunkenness, the sour gratifying gustatory sensation of the drink 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 fresher. A girl who is always a add up gripe. I thought I saw something different in her I surmise. Then today… her friend went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a piddling mad… I got mad enough to swear her four friends out and anticipate 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 integral year of being hit and poked and prodded and she just left off because I got mad… Now I don't know what the Scheol I'm doing. I know I didn't have a go at it 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 poor fish he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her hand on his second joint, not really have in mind to be anything More than a consolatory motion.
"Michael… don't headache about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve mortal considerably than that… Michael look at me."Zoë gently grabbed his chin and pulled his oculus around."I have only known you today, and you are so much better than that. Just forget her."He looked at her for a second before smiling, the first genuine grin he had given her that night. She smiled back, a arrant smile that instantly warmed his affection.

"Call me Mike. ”