It was a business trip to Fremont for a month. Initially, it was a business trip to Fremont from the university only for Mr. Hargreaves, your history and philosophy professor (You did not have a philosophy, but he teaches her at the university too), but a geography teacher (who always covered my ass when I scored a lot of debts on my studies, so he just asked me to send me there with him). As a result of the trip, I had to write an essay about an educational trip and all that. In fact, this will be my good reason to pass classes.

The budget allocated from the university was enough so that five would take off a small house so as not to settle in a hotel or apartment. Moreover, you were only 18 years old and you probably wanted personal space.

In fact, he noticed when you prepared breakfast and dinner for both of you, it was obvious that you just want it to be more condescending to you and give you higher grades when you return. He saw how you tie your T-shirt above your navel. “Well, already the second half of spring,” he thought every time. Although through your bright hair, a torn haircut, bright eyes, clapping eyelashes and rather innocent clothes, he could assume that you can be a specific kind…

Mr. Hargreaves was 43 years old, he looked very good, but wrinkles, near his eyes, gave a reminder of his age. His height was above average, but he was taller than you. He had not had a woman for a long time, but he did not care about it when he had so much work.

It was the third day of your stay in Fremont. Five worked a lot, trying to figure out his work, in order to just relax for the last week of the month of the trip.

Now, he just decided to take a break from work. He sat on a dark brown leather sofa in front of a small, slightly old TV, in his black trousers and a white shirt. His head was sick a little, so he rubbed his left temple with the fingertips of the left side, trying to find at least some humor in the Stand up show in front of him on the TV.