This story's plot belongs to Da Kaleidoscope. I simply took (cough *stole* cough) the idea and made it my own. Just kidding. He gave it to me XD

Have you ever tried to eat something with your nose plugged up or blocked? Try it. You can't really taste anything, can you?

That's because flavor is a combination of taste and smell.

There are five tastes: sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and savory. Compared to that, there are more than a billion scents our nose can distinguish. That's why you can only "taste" and not "smell," therefore missing the majority of your food's flavor.

So when it comes to a cup of coffee, the way to go is the Americano. Pure espresso swirled with hot water, which only accentuates the strong flavor that comes with the shots.

Smell it. Take a deep breath and take it all in. After that, you are free to take a tentative sip. Had you not smelt the coffee before drinking it, you would not have been able to experience the full-bodied flavor that comes with the Americano.

I don't want to drink my coffee. I want to enjoy my coffee.

I take life in a similar fashion. I don't want to simply live. I want to enjoy living. And I wish for all others to do the same.

The moment I walked into Trigonometry, hastily finishing off my Americano, I was met with the sight of students crowded near the back of the room where all the grades from the last test were posted for everyone to see.

I sighed and made my way to my desk. It was just a matter of minutes. Seconds, even.





And there it was. Followed by…


With a whispered smattering of…

"Can you believe that?" and "It doesn't matter how hard we try, does it?" and "This is so going to hurt my class rank."

I winced at the comments and glared at the person whose voice started it all. "Must you be so loud, Jason?"

Jason grinned boyishly, leaning against the desk adjacent to mine. "Can't help it. I got excited for you."

"Yeah, you and everyone else," I muttered.

"Oh, don't worry about them," said Jason. "They're just jealous because you're so much more talented than they are."

"It's not talent. Trig just makes sense to me. I'm no different from anyone else."

"Suuuuuure. Says the girl who has held an unweighted GPA of 4.0 since the beginning of freshman year."

"Hey, that's not—"

"Fair?" At my silence, Jason smiled. "Come on, Ellie. You're smart. Admit it."

I harrumphed and turned the other way, just in time for the bell to ring, signaling the beginning of class.

I kicked a rock, and continued kicking said rock, almost the entire way walking home from school. I imagined it was Jason's head instead of the awkwardly shaped rocky surface.

So what if I got a 103 (the bonus was far from difficult) on my Trigonometry test? So what if I've been averaging an A-plus in almost every subject since middle school? So what if people got on to me about being intelligent? So what if my peers sent disdainful remarks toward me for being so?

Was it my fault? Did I choose to get every answer right? Well, yes, but it shouldn't be a crime. It's like being correct was taboo instead of the other way around. I get people saying one of either two things. One: that they're proud of me and I should keep up the hard work, that I should aim for the moon and land on the stars. Two: that I shouldn't be so smug just because I got a few (more than a few) good grades, that I needed to get off my high horse and get on a unicorn.

Sorry, but I don't believe in unicorns.

With one last powerful kick, Jason's head (the rock) sailed through the air, went THUNK against the trunk of the tree in front of my house, and bounced back toward me.

I took a deep breath and went to pick up the rock, turning it over in my hands once I did.

It wasn't THAT misshapen. In fact, it looked kind of like a picture I'd seen of siltstone on the Internet. Just… rounder. Maybe I'd found a pretty valuable rock. I pocketed it, debating whether or not to paint it, before I looked up and examine the tree.

I almost missed it at first. But at that moment, the wind picked up and I saw it fluttering with the cool breeze.

A half sheet of paper was pinned to the tree at around my eye level. I wondered if it was a flyer for a lost dog. Or an advertisement proclaiming the opening of a new nearby business.

When the wind finally settled down, I saw but three words written in cursive Sharpie.

I love you.

The romantic inside me gushed with thoughts of 'Awwwww' and 'That's so cute!' while the rest of me berated the writer for not outwardly confessing to the girl or boy who held his or her heart.

I stared at it for a few minutes, wondering who on earth the message could be for. As far as I knew, no other kids or young adults lived in this part of the neighborhood. It was a small, quiet cul-de-sac which was dominated by retired folks and working adults.

I shrugged, took one last glance at the paper, and turned away to enter my cozy little one-story.

I came home to find my aunt reading, as always, on the couch. She looked up when she heard me enter and asked the question I knew she was going to ask.

"How did you do on your math test?"

"I passed."

Aunt Lynette blinked before nodding and turning back to her book. "Good job, Eleanor."

I shrugged and headed upstairs.

My laptop beckoned me toward it. So I answered its beckoning and sat crisscross on top of my bed, booting up said laptop and waiting for the screen to flash white. I looked at my wallpaper and frowned.

I wondered if wallpapers said certain things about people. Maybe a cat wallpaper would indicate the person is gentle, caring, and nurturing. Maybe an anime wallpaper would indicate the person is wacky, unique, and a huge fan. Maybe the default landscape wallpaper would indicate the person is too busy with life to think about little things like wallpapers.

But I didn't have a wallpaper. I chose to delete it and make it white and blank.

I wonder why I did something like that. Granted it was years ago when I did the deed, but still. It wasn't until now that I became curious about it.

Well, not curious enough.

For my next actions were to sigh, click on Google Chrome, and surf.


What is this? What on Earth is this?!

It's the same note as yesterday, but different. For one, it's in red Sharpie this time. But what's really eye-catching isn't the change of color. It's the name at the end.

I love you, Eleanor.

That name. It's my name. MY NAME.

I felt shivers run up my spine. I thought it was cute before, but this was definitely NOT cute. In fact, it was downright creepy!

Who would do such a thing?!

This was supposed to be a one-shot, but then I realized... waaaaay too long to be a one-shot.

Also, I shouldn't even be writing this. I should be writing Idiosyncrasy, but that's evidently not happening XD

Review if you hated it, and thanks a bunch in advance! ;)