Real Love Smells Like Root Beer

Hooray for Friday night, and there’s no school on Monday!  Plenty of time to figure out some stuff about the letter that was delivered to our door last night. I didn’t tell my parents about it. It was addressed to me you know. I opened it, and it’s a note from one of the three sisters who live in the penthouse in my building. I’ve heard rumors about them.. mostly about crazy parties they have. That and according to my Mom, they each have had many boyfriends. Mom has met two of the Fates as they call themselves, Isabelle and Lena. According to her, Stephanie is the shy one and keeps to herself. My note is from Lena. She invited me upstairs tomorrow afternoon to visit Jessica, their crystal ball. If i told my parents, i don’t think they’d let me go. But then again, maybe i should tell them. The thing that’s odd about it, is that the three sisters aren’t home. They’re gone for a few days. The only ones who will be home, according to the note, will be the butler, Julian, and Jessica’s sitter, Finley. This was all explained in the note. Really weird. I mean, i’m curious about what it’s like up there, but i think i’ll wait until the sisters get home. Now i’m wondering if they know about my superpower. You know, my ability to figure out secrets by their scent. What i truly want to do, is some detective work up there. Sniff around, literally. So i need to respond to the invitation by text. Going to say no thank you.. nice of you to invite me, but maybe some other time. So i text Lena. Fifteen minutes later, a text comes back. It says, i’m sorry, Mirelle, but i didn’t send you a note. Please show it to your parents, and i’ll come down to see you when i get home. Okay, this is really bizarre. Who sent me this?  I go back and reread the note. I smell it again. It still smells like trouble, which i figured out last night. And a little like love. But there’s another scent mixed in. Something besides love and trouble. I smell magic. That’s what it is!  Definitely magic!  Magic smells like peanut butter with notes of blueberry pie. I say to my kitty .. there’s magic around here, Enzo, and i want to find it. I sniff the ink and paper again to be sure. For a second i think i smell true love.. but no,  that’s not it. I know that real love smells like root beer. I know what i’m doing on my Saturday. Looking, or rather sniffing, around my building for magic.

By M. Raynes


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