Misunderstood: Inspired by the Neighbor from Hell Series (A Neighbor from Hell YA Book 1)

by R. L. Mathewson

  “I could have,” Sebastian said, shooting his brother a wink as he stuffed the iPad inside his sweatshirt.

  “Just don’t drop it. I want to check out the extracurriculars they offer before tomorrow,” Jonathan said as he grabbed a book off their desk and dropped down on the bottom bunk where he would most likely fall asleep before Sebastian came back.

  “I won’t,” Sebastian said, chuckling as he slowly made his way past his sister’s window.

  As soon as he came to the edge of the roof, Sebastian lowered himself to the next level and made his way to the chimney where he spent most of his time reading to get a break from his family. He loved them, he truly did, but sometimes he just wanted to sit back with a book and lose himself for a little while. Since they were all afraid of heights, this worked out well for him.

  It also didn’t hurt that this particular spot was close to his parents’ room and he’d be able to hear if they decided to check on them, which would give him plenty of time to return to the safety of his room and climb back in bed before they made good on all those promises to wring his neck if they caught him on the roof again. Until then, Sebastian was going to sit here and check out the insanely cool school that was going to save him from spending another year doing the workbooks that his mother downloaded from the internet.

  He loved spending time with his mother and studying whatever he wanted, but he missed school. He missed gym class, missed hanging out with his friends at lunch, missed being able to get a new book every day from the library, and missed being taught instead of watching videos and doing busy work. For the past two years, his parents had been trying to get them into a new school, hoping to find a private school that would take them without costing a fortune, but thanks to their school records, none of the schools around here had been willing to accept them.

  Except for Radcliffe Academy.

  His mother had gone to bat for them, calling and emailing the school every week for the past year until the school finally gave in and allowed them to take the entrance exam. When their test results came in, the school offered them a scholarship and now, they were going to one of the best schools in the country and he couldn’t wait. They’d have to take two buses to get there, but it would be worth it, especially if–

  “Baby, please stop crying,” Sebastian heard his father say, making him frown as he looked up from the iPad in his hands.

  Curious, Sebastian shifted to the edge of the roof and looked past the chimney. When he heard the unmistakable sounds of his mother crying, something that he’d never heard before, he found himself shoving the iPad back in his sweatshirt and carefully moving around the chimney so that he could make sure that she was okay.

  “Shhh, baby, please. Everything is going to be okay,” his father said while Sebastian watched through their bedroom window as he pulled Sebastian’s mother into his arms and closed his eyes. “It will be fine.”

  “No, it won’t,” she said around a choked sob as she wrapped her arms around his father and pressed her face against his chest.

  “We’ll figure something out. We always do,” his father promised, but from the expression on his face, Sebastian could tell that he really didn’t believe it.

  Sebastian swallowed nervously as he knelt there, watching his parents, more terrified than he’d ever been in his life because he’d never seen his parents like this. When something went wrong, his parents usually teased each other until one of them was smiling and Sebastian knew that everything was going to be okay. But now…

  Now, he was absolutely terrified.

  “How are we supposed to choose?” his mother asked.

  “I don’t know, Zoe,” his father said, making him frown.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “We’ll make it work,” his father promised.

  “How are we supposed to come up with forty thousand dollars every year for the next eight years?” his mother asked, making his stomach drop.

  “I don’t know.”

  “How are we supposed to decide who gets to go to this school and have a real chance and which one stays here while we fumble our way through homeschooling him? I can’t do it, Trevor. I can’t do that to them,” his mother said as she held on tightly to his father while Sebastian sat there, realizing just how much his parents had been hiding from them.

  They hadn’t offered them both a scholarship.

  Radcliffe Academy had only offered one of them a scholarship, which meant that one of them wasn’t going anywhere. It meant eight more years of workbooks at the kitchen table, running errands with their mother, and trying not to die from boredom.

  “I don’t think they expect us to choose, sweetheart. Sebastian got the higher score,” his father said as Sebastian sat there breathing a sigh of relief.

  That is, until his mother spoke.

  “What about Jonathan?”

  “He can do another year of homeschooling, sweetheart. In the meantime, we’ll save every penny we get our hands on and we can send him next year,” his father promised as Sebastian wordlessly turned around and slowly made his way back to his bedroom.

  “It’s about time,” Jonathan said, grinning as he sat up and tossed his book aside when Sebastian crawled back through the window. “I can’t decide if I want to join the robotics team or the soccer team. Both would be cool, but the robotics team gets a trip to Disney World if they win. We should both join. We’d definitely win then.”

  “Here,” Sebastian said hollowly as he pulled the iPad out of his sweatshirt and handed it to his brother.

  “You’re done?” his brother asked, looking surprised.

  “Yeah, I’m done,” Sebastian said, nodding absently as he climbed onto the top bunk, laid down, and closed his eyes.

  Chapter 2

  Three Years Later…

  “Do you know why you’re here today, Sebastian?” came the question that had already been asked by ten other therapists over this past year alone.

  “I have a pretty good idea,” Sebastian murmured absently as he glanced around the large office, taking note of all the diplomas on the wall, the Marvel and D.C. Comics memorabilia throughout the large room, the huge flat screen television on the wall with every video game console known to man neatly lined up on the shelves below it, the large video game collection lining the bookshelves on either side of the large television, teen magazines covering the coffee table in front of him and couldn’t help but wonder why his parents thought this would be a good idea.

  “Care to share?” the therapist that his parents hoped would figure out what was wrong with him, asked.

  “Not really,” Sebastian said when he spotted something promising on the other side of the room.

  “You like to read?” Ben, as he’d been told to call him, asked when Sebastian walked toward the collection of books on the other side of the room.

  “Do you like to ask questions that you already know the answer to?” Sebastian countered as he took in the selection of books in front of him, looking for something new to read.

  “Fair enough,” Ben said before he suggested, “Then why don’t you tell me what you want to talk about.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Sebastian said, biting back a disappointed sigh as he took in graphic novel books, books on bullying, eating disorders, and depression, noting that Ben had the same collection of books that seemed to be standard in every therapist’s office, and was about to turn around when he saw it.

  A book written on the best methods of behavioral therapy for teenagers written by the man currently trying to get inside his head. He made a mental note of the title before making his way back to his seat, noting that Ben already had a fresh legal pad and pen ready to go.

  “Really? Because your parents were able to give me a list of concerns that they think we should talk about,” Ben said, throwing Sebastian a questioning look as he sat back down on the large leather couch across from him.

  “Fine,” Sebastian said, gesturing lazily for him to cont
inue. “Why don’t we go over that list so that I can get out of here before the library closes?”

  “Okay,” Ben murmured, looking thoughtful as he reached back and picked up a manila folder off the large desk behind him. “Why don’t we start with school?”

  “I’m homeschooled. There’s nothing really to talk about,” Sebastian said with a shrug.

  “You don’t think turning down a full scholarship to one of the most prestigious schools in the country is something that we should talk about?”

  “They didn’t have any of the extracurriculars that I was looking for,” Sebastian said, wondering when his parents were going to let this go.

  “What were you hoping for?” Ben asked, clicking his pen open to make a note in his file only to pause and throw him a questioning look when Sebastian said, “Miming classes.”

  “You want to be a mime?” Ben asked as his lips twitched in amusement.

  “It’s the dream,” Sebastian said dryly.

  “I can see that you’re very passionate about it,” Ben said, chuckling as he looked back down at whatever was written in his file.

  “It’s all I live for,” Sebastian drawled before asking, “What else?”

  “They’re concerned that all you seem to do is read.”

  “There are worse things that I could be doing,” Sebastian pointed out as he took in the man sitting across from him, noting the meticulously combed dark hair, the neatly trimmed beard, the laugh lines around his blue eyes down to the unbuttoned shirt collar, blue jeans, and the way that he relaxed back in his chair and combined that with the way that he’d set up his office and knew that this one was going to try to be his “friend.”

  “True,” Ben murmured in agreement before moving on. “What about Mikey?”

  “Is off-limits,” Sebastian said firmly.

  “Why is that?” Ben asked, absently drumming his fingertips against the armrest of his leather chair as he shot Sebastian a curious look. “He’s your best friend, right?”

  “She’s my best friend,” Sebastian corrected him.

  Nodding, Ben said, “And she’s also your cousin?”

  “No, she’s not. My father’s cousin married her mom. We’re not related.”

  “But the rest of your family considers her part of the family, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you don’t see her that way?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you see her?” Ben asked as he continued drumming his fingertips against the armrest, waiting for an answer that he was never going to get.

  “Next question,” Sebastian said, leaning back in his chair and began drumming his fingertips against the armrest, mimicking the therapist’s movements until Ben realized what he was doing and stopped.

  “What about your other friends?” Ben asked, shifting his attention from Sebastian’s fingertips drumming in cadence with the seconds ticking away on the large clock on the wall across from him.

  “What about them?” Sebastian asked, noting that there were twelve hundred seconds left before he could leave.

  “Do you have any?”

  “Imaginary or real?” Sebastian drawled.

  “Do you have imaginary friends, Sebastian?” Ben asked, clicking his pen open as he shifted to get more comfortable.

  “Don’t we all?” he asked, sighing heavily even as he noted that there were only nine hundred and seventy-eight seconds left.

  “Usually not at fourteen,” Ben said, making a note.

  “I’m a late bloomer.”

  “What are their names?” Ben asked, glancing up from his notes.

  “Bashful, Doc, Dopey, Happy, Sleepy, Sneezy, and Grumpy,” Sebastian drawled, making the therapist that was wasting his time with this, chuckle.

  “And you’re very smart,” Ben said as he clicked his pen shut and tossed the file and pen on the coffee table between them.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” Sebastian pointed out.

  “No, I don’t think there is either,” Ben murmured in agreement.

  “Then you’ll tell my parents that therapy is a waste of my time?” he asked, hoping to end this once and for all.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Why do you think I need therapy?” Sebastian asked, noting that there was only one hundred and thirty seconds remaining.

  “Because I think you’re hiding something,” Ben said, sounding thoughtful as Sebastian continued counting down the seconds.

  “And what’s that?” Sebastian asked even as he had to give the man credit.

  “If I knew that, we’d be having a completely different discussion,” Ben said, glancing down at his watch as Sebastian slowly drummed his fingertips three more times and

  Beep!

  Before the loud chime finished playing its first alert, Sebastian was grabbing his backpack and heading for the door.

  “I’ll see you next week,” Ben called after him.

  Sebastian didn’t bother telling him that he wouldn’t be back since he’d probably figure that out on his own when he didn’t show up.

  Chapter 3

  Oh, that couldn’t be good…

  Worrying her bottom lip, Mikey watched her teacher pick up the book report that she’d handed in yesterday and

  Oh, that definitely couldn’t be good, Mikey thought as she watched Mr. Rose look from her book report to her, frown in confusion, and glance back down again as he reached for the red pen only to rethink that decision and grabbed the thick red marker instead.

  Rubbing the bridge of her nose to cover a wince, Mikey watched him shake his head in wonder as he read her book report. A moment, and two more bewildered looks in her direction later, he turned her book report over and

  Sighed heavily as he said the nine words that never ended well for her just as the lunch bell rang.

  “Mikey, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Since she knew that this wasn’t going to end well, at least, not for her, Mikey cleared her throat and decided to go with a hopeful smile as she grabbed her bag and got to her feet as she said, “I can explain?” while the rest of the class filed out of the room, several of her friends throwing her pitying looks as they went.

  “I’m sure you can,” Mr. Rose murmured as he gestured toward the paper covered in red marker. “Did you read the book, Mikey?”

  “I don’t think that it would be in my best interest to answer that question,” she said, nodding solemnly.

  “Probably not,” Mr. Rose murmured absently as he turned her book report over and skimmed the back before saying, “You didn’t explain how the book ended.”

  “I didn’t want to ruin the ending for you,” Mikey said with a sad shake of her head and a heartfelt sigh that had him chuckling.

  “That’s very considerate of you,” he drawled.

  “I try,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.

  “Can I ask you something?” Mr. Rose asked, leaning back in his chair as he considered her for a moment.

  “Just as long as it doesn’t end with a call to my parents,” she said, making his lips twitch.

  “Why are you failing my class?”

  “Because you don’t accept bribes,” Mikey said, making him chuckle as he pushed his chair back and headed toward the bookshelves overflowing with books that Sebastian would probably kill to get his hands on. He’d probably like this class, Mikey thought absently as she watched Mr. Rose search through the bookshelves.

  “I can see how that would be a problem,” Mr. Rose murmured as he paused when he came to a thick black book on the bottom shelf.

  “It really is,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.

  Chuckling, he grabbed the black book and tossed it to her as he said, “This should help.”

  Frowning, Mikey asked, “Help with what?” as she caught the book.

  “You have a choice,” Mr. Rose said as he walked back to his desk and sat back down.

  “Which is…” Mikey asked, glancing down at the book in her hand a
nd tried not to wince when she saw the title.

  “You’re not going to like it,” Mr. Rose warned her.

  “Probably not,” Mikey murmured in agreement.

  “Let me ask you something first,” Mr. Rose said, leaning back in his chair as he considered her. “What were you hoping for when you handed in that book report?”

  “That it would bring tears of joy to your eyes when you read it,” Mikey said, nodding solemnly.

  “It came close,” he said, matching her nod with one of his own before he gestured to the large book in her hand. “When are tryouts?”

  “Monday,” Mikey weakly mumbled, not really liking where this was going.

  “Baseball is”

  “My life,” Mikey stressed, cutting him off with the hopes that he understood what was at stake here.

  All she’d ever wanted to do was play baseball.

  That was it.

  The first time that she saw a baseball game, she’d fallen head-over-heels in love. It wasn’t long before she’d discovered her love of pitching. She’d treated everything within reach as a baseball and after several unfortunate incidents that had ended with two broken windows, her mother flinching anytime she reached for her sippy cup, and the mailman refusing to deliver their mail if she was home, her mother bought her a toddler-sized baseball glove and a tennis ball.

  That had quickly led to her mother banning balls in the house, begging the T-ball coach to let her play even though she’d only been three at the time and her obsession with everything baseball. She played every chance she got, begged everyone that made the mistake of making eye contact with her to play catch, and quickly learned to apologize for any and all unfortunate accidents that happened as a result.

  As the years passed, one thing became clear, she was meant to play baseball. It was the only thing that she wanted to do, which was a problem since her mom refused to let her quit school and focus on her baseball career. That was fine, because she had a plan, one that she’d been working on since she was little and one that had almost failed before they’d met Reese.

  Her pitches had been wild and the parents of the other kids on the team hadn’t been happy about her playing with them. That had led to her being stuck warming the bench and terrified that she would never get a chance to play. After she’d accidently sent Reese to the hospital with a fastball, she’d expected her mom to put an end to her dreams. What she hadn’t expected was for Reese to work with her and show her how to control her aim better. Once he’d married her mom, they’d moved closer to his family and she’d finally found a team that would let her play.