Misunderstood (A Neighbor from Hell YA #1) - R.L. Mathewson Page 0,43

her shoulders slump in defeat as she stared at the screen.

After a moment, she sighed and reminded herself what was at stake here. It was just one book report. She could do this, Mikey told herself with a firm nod as she opened another Word document and followed the directions on the book report template. Once she was done, Mikey sighed with relief and hit print only to groan a few minutes later when Sebastian plucked the book report out of her hands and went through it with a pen. Once he was done, he handed it back to her and had her groaning pathetically again as she turned back around in her chair and set to work.

An hour later, Mikey was exhausted, seeing double, but she was finally done. Rubbing her hands down her face, she turned her chair around and found Sebastian passed out on her bed. God, he was so damn bossy, but he was also the best friend she’d ever had, Mikey thought as she turned her chair around and after a quick Google search and a few clicks, found what she was looking for.

After a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure that Sebastian was still sleeping, Mikey turned her attention back to her computer. She clicked the link, opening a blank email and did the only thing that she could think of to help Sebastian, hoping that it would be enough, but if it wasn’t…

Then she’d find another way.

*-*-*-*

Just let this be over, Mikey thought later that morning as she struggled to keep her eyes open so that she could watch Mr. Rose as he graded her book report. She felt her eyelids grow heavy as her head dropped forward only to force her eyes back open when she saw Mr. Rose reach for the red marker. Worrying her bottom lip, Mikey watched as he picked up the marker only to decide against it and put it back down and grabbed the red pen instead.

For several minutes, Mr. Rose sat there, reading her paper only to periodically look up at her, frown, look back down at her paper again and shake his head in wonder as Mikey did her best not to panic. She was exhausted, a tad cranky, and fully prepared to cry if she had to do it over again and she really hoped that she didn’t have to do it over again.

“Mikey, can I talk to you for a minute?” Mr. Rose asked just as the lunch bell rang.

Nodding, Mikey took a steadying breath as she grabbed her bag and got to her feet only to wonder why her friends were always throwing her pitying looks whenever a teacher wanted to talk to her. She should probably be concerned about that, Mikey thought as she watched Mr. Rose sit back in his chair as he gestured to her paper.

“Who wrote that?”

“I did?” she said, wondering why that came off as a question.

“You did?” Mr. Rose asked, looking skeptical as he glanced back down at her paper.

“Every life-altering word,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.

“And you read the book?” he asked, throwing her a questioning look as he reached over and picked up her book report.

“Unfortunately,” she said with a helpless shrug.

“How did you manage that?” Mr. Rose asked, looking curious.

“Desperation,” Mikey said, making his lips twitch.

“Who helped you with your book report?” he absently asked as he picked up her book report and took another look at it.

“My best friend.”

“And did your best friend read the book for you?” Mr. Rose asked, throwing her another questioning look.

“No, he slowly destroyed my will to live by making me finish reading it on my own,” Mikey said with a sad shake of her head.

“It’s well-written,” Mr. Rose pointed out, tossing her book report back on his desk.

“Apparently there’s a format for writing book reports,” Mikey told him.

“Imagine that,” he drawled, looking amused as he considered her for a moment.

“Can I go to tryouts today?” Mikey asked, forcing the words out of her mouth as she stood there trying not to panic because she honestly didn’t know what she would do if he said no.

Besides cry that is, she amended a moment later when he reached for the red pen. She watched as Mr. Rose took his time going over her book report and just when she thought that she was going to be sick, he flipped back to the first page and–

“Good luck at tryouts, Mikey,” Mr. Rose said with a warm smile as

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