Misunderstood (A Neighbor from Hell YA #1) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,20
since she wasn’t talking to him at the moment. Not that she was actually mad at him, because she wasn’t. No, what she was, was a cranky little thing that lived to torment him. It gave her great pleasure knowing that she had him wrapped around her little finger and could torment him whenever she wanted, which was often.
“I need a dictionary,” Mikey said as she turned her attention to the small bookcase overflowing with books.
There was a heavy sigh and then…
“You don’t need to pretend. We all know the real reason you’re here,” Jonathan said.
“Oh, and why’s that?” Mikey absently asked as she tried searching through the books in the dark.
“Because you can’t live without me,” Jonathan announced with what looked like a sad shake of his head. “It’s okay, Mikey. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
There was a pause while Sebastian pushed his covers back, ready to beat the crap out of his brother and then, Mikey’s eyes went wide in the moonlight streaming into their room as she breathed, “Oh, my god, how did you know?” making him wince because he knew what was coming.
“Does it really matter?” Jonathan asked, smiling as he climbed out of bed and
Ended up releasing a pained grunt when Mikey palmed his face and pushed him back on his bed, grabbed a pillow and shoved it on his brother’s face as she said, “Dictionary?”
With a muffled reply, Jonathan gestured toward Sebastian’s side of the room.
Nodding, Mikey released her hold on the pillow as Sebastian reached over and turned the lamp on by his bed. He watched as Mikey, who was once again wearing his sweatshirt, headed his way.
“Why do you need a dictionary?” Sebastian asked as he reached over and grabbed the dictionary off his nightstand. He considered asking her why she didn’t just use a dictionary app on her phone only to remember that she didn’t have a phone at the moment thanks to an unfortunate incident last month involving Jonathan and a bucket of ice that…
It was probably for the best if he didn’t think about what she’d tried to do with that bucket of ice, Sebastian decided.
“I just need it,” Mikey said, not quite meeting his eyes as she reached over to take the book out of his hand only to sigh when he pulled it back.
“For what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on her as he took in the way that she avoided looking at him, the way that her fingers toyed with the drawstring on his sweatshirt, and the way that she shifted nervously and knew that she was hiding something from him.
“For stuff,” she murmured, still not looking at him.
His gaze flickered to the alarm clock by his bed. “What kind of ‘stuff’ requires a dictionary at eleven o’clock on a Friday night?” Sebastian asked as he tossed the dictionary on the bed beside him.
“Nothing that you need to concern yourself with,” Mikey said as she gestured for him to hand over the dictionary while he sat there, considering her.
There was no doubt in his mind that the dictionary was to help her get through reading The Count of Monte Cristo, but the question was why? If there was one thing that he knew about Mikey, it was that she hated anything and everything schoolwork related unless it had to do with baseball. The only reason that she forced herself to go to school every day and do the bare minimum was so that she could play baseball.
And since tryouts were Monday…
“Why are you manhandling me?” Mikey asked when he reached over and grabbed hold of her arm.
“Start talking,” Sebastian said, waiting for her to finish toeing off her sneakers before pulling her down on the bed next to him.
“I would, except I’m still not talking to you,” Mikey said as she reached down and pulled the covers up before snuggling closer to his side.
Once she was settled, Mikey reached over and grabbed the dictionary, dropped it on her lap and pulled the large book that he’d been wondering about out of her sweatshirt pocket. With a grumble, she opened the book, sighed heavily a few seconds later, and grabbed the dictionary. That was followed by her dropping the dictionary back on her lap, picking the book back up, finding the spot where she’d left off and
Repeated the process all over again.
Biting back a sigh, he reached over and plucked the book out of her hand with a murmured, “What’s going on, Mikey?”