Misfortune and Mr. Right (Only Magic in the Building)

by Savannah Scott

Logan can’t even perspire without looking amazing. It’s revolting. Truly.

I’m fine.” If by fine you mean my life just crashed in the equivalent of a near-fatal accident.

“You have to eat the cookie!” Lynette exclaims. “Otherwise, the fortune won’t come true.” “That’s a myth,” Megan says. “No. I’ve heard it more than once,” Lynette defends, as if repeated nonsense holds more weight somehow.

Mister Rogers did not adequately prepare me for the people in my neighborhood. ~ Unknown

I’m talking to myself now. Is that a sign of mental instability?

Logan winks and walks toward the staircase. That wink. It’s so devastating. Or it would be on someone more susceptible to his charm.

“The saddest thing is that butterflies can’t even see their own wings.”

“Trust me,” she persists. “The way that man was looking at you—was not neutral.”

Life is a combination of magic and pasta. ~ Federico Fellini

Logan steps up next to me, and the back of his hand brushes against the back of mine, lingering there a moment before pulling away. The touch appears accidental, but when I glance up at him, he’s smiling down at me very intentionally.

“Pennington,” he says in a private way that causes everything around us to disappear in an instant. “Alexander,” I answer him in a way that says, I might be falling for you, and I’m not as scared of that possibility as I was last night.

I stick my pinky finger in his direction, and he loops his around mine. We ride down like that, stealing glances at one another, way too giddy over something so ridiculously simple but surprisingly intimate.