When Michael got home the clock ticked five XVIII. The household was completely abandon, except for a note on the counter.

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

He read the note absent-mindedly and went up to his room. He threw his knapsack 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 twenty three.

The sound of the doorbell awoke a Michael gently cursing his self and whoever was at the door. Once he opened the room access he groaned and scratched his center, desperately trying to fire up up. Zoë something stood smiling sheepishly on the dance step, her packsack over one shoulder and her math notebook clasped in one hand. She smiled when he opened the doorway though it quickly was replaced with a face of concern.
"Michael… sorry did I wake you up ? ? You didn't appearance up, so I looked you up online and saw that floor 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 day and it wore me down pretty firmly. Come in, I'll grab my book bag and we can get started. You can last out 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 shoe on the roofing tile entryway the two stepped into the declamatory living way. The wall were painted tweed, all just pure white. The den was carpet, a thin gold that felt gentle under one's groundwork. There were two couch and two lovemaking behind, all arranged around a bland screen TV mounted on a console of stained cherry wood and a matching tabular array within range of all seating room. Off of the den were the closed doors of Michael's father's office, and directly in front end of the door through the den was the nigrify tile of the kitchen. Separating the den and the kitchen was a bar of dark hard Mrs. Henry Wood, with three bar visible light dangling down from the ceiling. A pair of fan lazily spun above the amber carpeting. Zoë kept herself from commenting on the lavishness of the home as Michael escorted her into the den.
"I'm sorry about his spot, it's a bit big… here we can work 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.

"assist yourself to anything in the fridge, or a drink of water… anything you need."With that he disappeared from thought. Zoë dropped her bag on one of the sofas and gazed around. Her family was semi declamatory, but had all cozy furniture. This place was like the home of a tycoon, filled with things unused and spiritual domain by the possessor. She walked into the kitchen, wanting for a field glass of water. When her foot touched the tile she shivered, the cold of the roofing tile seeming exactly like the cold of the home. Zoë vaguely wondered how Michael could live here. She opened up a few console and was once again greeted by the hollow side of opulence, china and wine glasses looking back at her from within their cabinets. The doors of the storage locker were all glass, allowing her see somewhat inside. Opening one she found the exact opposition of everything she had seen so far. Sitting in the rear recession on the behind shelf of one of the cabinets she found two plastic loving cup, a package of newspaper shell and some gaudy 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 coffee mugs and the dishrag.

Filling the cup with ice cubes and urine Zoë made her way back to the tabular array, walking slowly over the black roofing tile and looking around at everything once again. The roof were all high above her head, while everything on the background was chrome or clean, absolutely no trace of human life story in the domicile at all. She heard footsteps on the stair as Michael came down with his backpack in his mitt. He had wiped his face and brushed his teeth, or so it appeared. He stopped at the rear end of the steps 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 low gear couch, the weak brownness 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 bailiwick. Deciding a time out was in order they journeyed to the kitchen and refilled their boozing. Michael pulled a liter of lemonade from the electric refrigerator and filled his, watching as Zoë filled her cup with ice and water supply. As she waited for the pee to fulfill up Michael looked over her, admiring what he saw. Zoë stood about five foot five, with prospicient dark brown hair and a very fairly face. She was wearing a Louis Harold Gray t-shirt and a pair maroon and white Nike shorts that complemented her well. Her eyes were each different, a stunning compounding of green hazel and ice blueing. Her breasts were average size, Michael guessed, about a 36 C or bombastic. He found his eyes wandering lower to her ass, and a very finely ass it was. Michael shook his head as he bean comparing her to blush wine, shutting down that persona of his psyche and putting the lemonade back in the fridge. She turned and smiled at him, walking across and sitting on the bar while setting her foot on one of the stools. 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 house. On one of her legal brief trips to the privy she had seen his room, a neat small elbow room that looked so utterly formula 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 headache, almost ruth in her eyes."Are you okay ? You've been either really tired or really sad this whole sentence. 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 gaze, the sheepishness returning as she spoke.

"Zoë I really am enjoying this whole affair. I don't like math but you're making it a lot of fun."Michael jumped up on the bar and sat future to her, trying not to see directly into her eyes."I just… I made a mistake and… I'm sorry you really don't want to listen about this."He took a sip of his drink, the sour sugariness gustation of the drink waking him up slowly.

"No please… just recite 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 fledgling. A little girl who is always a add together bitch. I thought I saw something dissimilar in her I surmise. Then today… her friend went to slap me and I stopped her. I got a little mad… I got mad enough to curse her four friends out and predict 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 minute. After an total 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 love her or anything like that. I just thought maybe she felt something for me. Not make out. I didn't want her love."Michael trailed off as he realized how pudding head he sounded, taking another sip of lemonade.

Zoë put her hand on his thigh, not really think of to be anything more than a console motion.
"Michael… don't worry about her. She was probably just using you ! You deserve someone sound than that… Michael look at me."Zoë gently grabbed his chin and pulled his optic around."I have only known you today, and you are so much respectable than that. Just draw a blank 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 smiling that instantly warmed his heart.

"phone call me Mike. ”