When Michael got home the clock ticked five eighteen. The family was completely hollow, except for a bill on the counter.

Mike,
Went to visit aunty Marlow and your new first 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 political party please. I do wait you to be a piffling better than Dana…
Dad

He read the preeminence 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 doorbell awoke a Michael gently cursing his self and whoever was at the door. Once he opened the door he groaned and scratched his centre, desperately trying to wake up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the stride, her backpack over one shoulder and her math notebook clasped in one manus. She smiled when he opened the door though it quickly was replaced with a fount 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 hard. semen in, I'll grab my book bag and we can get started. You can abide right ? ‘ kay, I'll be good back"He gestured for her to come inside as she started back down the stairs. She stepped in a bit nervously. Kicking off her skid on the tile entryway the two stepped into the heavy living room. The wall were painted snowy, all just virginal white. The den was carpet, a slender atomic number 79 that felt gentle under one's feet. There were two couch and two love hind end, all arranged around a flat screen TV mounted on a cabinet of stained cherry tree wood and a matching table within reach of all seats. Off of the den were the conclude doorway of Michael's father's office, and directly in battlefront of the door through the den was the black tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of dark knockout wood, with three bar twinkle dangling down from the ceiling. A couplet of lover lazily spun above the gold carpet. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the sumptuousness of the home as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his station, it's a bit big… here we can act upon on the board. I'll just go up and get my bag… I'll be right field 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 drinkable of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from view. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the sofa and gazed around. Her firm was semi turgid, but had all tea cozy furniture. This place was like the home of a Martin Luther King, filled with things fresh and unseen by the owner. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a glass of pee. When her ft touched the roofing tile she shivered, the cold of the tile seeming exactly like the frigidity of the abode. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could live here. She opened up a few cabinets and was once again greeted by the core out aspect of luxury, china and wine glasses looking back at her from within their locker. The doors of the cabinets were all glass, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the exact opponent of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the back box on the bottom ledge of one of the cabinets she found two plastic cups, a bundle of paper plateful and some sleazy silverware. There was zero else inside. Grabbing one of the cups she shut the cabinet and looked around realizing that it was the cabinet that held the coffee chump and the dishrags.

Filling the cup with ice cubes and piss Zoë made her way back to the mesa, walking slowly over the melanise roofing tile and looking around at everything once again. The ceilings were all high above her nous, while everything on the solid ground was chrome or clean, absolutely no touch of homo life in the home at all. She heard pace on the steps as Michael came down with his backpack in his bridge player. He had wiped his nerve and brushed his teeth, or so it appeared. He stopped at the freighter 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 grinning sleepily and joined her on the way to the couches. The two sat down on the inaugural sofa, the light Brown leather crinkling under their combined weight.
"All right so what did you demand help with ?"

At eight thirty the two were near done with their studies. Deciding a prison-breaking 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 piddle. As she waited for the water to replete up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five foot five, with long dark brownish hair and a very pretty face. She was wearing a gray tee shirt and a couple maroon and white Nike shorts that complemented her well. Her optic were each different, a bedaze combination of green hazel and ice bluing. Her breasts were intermediate size, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or declamatory. He found his eyes wandering scurvy to her ass, and a very fine ass it was. Michael shook his heading as he bean comparing her to rosiness, shutting down that component part 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 metrical unit on one of the stools. 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 star sign. On one of her brief trips to the lavatory she had seen his room, a clean small room that looked so perfectly 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 sound of Zoë's voice he snapped up. She was looking down at him with ha genuine worry, almost pity 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 shamefacedness returning as she spoke.

"Zoë I really am enjoying this unit thing. 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 center."I just… I made a mistake and… I'm sorry you really don't want to try about this."He took a sip of his drink, the sour sweet taste 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 eyes besides pity.

"I made the mistake of… hooking up… with a freshman. A girlfriend who is always a sum up kick. I thought I saw something different in her I guess. Then today… her champion went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a little mad… I got mad enough to cuss her four friends out and hollo 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 present moment. After an stallion 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 have intercourse 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 hand on his thigh, not really meant to be anything More than a soothe gesture.
"Michael… don't worry about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve someone unspoiled 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 better than that. Just leave her."He looked at her for a hour before smiling, the first genuine smile he had given her that night. She smiled back, a perfect grinning that instantly warmed his spirit.

"Call me Mike. ”