Page 33 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

“Don’t say talk about it,” she snapped. “All I’ve been doing is talking about it. I want to do something about it.”

“You can’t do anything about this, kid. Your parents have to handle this. None of this is on you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any less crazy.”

“I can relate to that.” Uncle Neil stepped away from the counter, tilting his head toward the garage. “Let me show you something.”

She expected that he’d show her something she needed to clean, or a tricky repair he wanted to explain, or that he’d make her watch an episode of How It’s Made again. She did not expect to see Zephyr’s broom, the one she’d watched explode into a hundred pieces, now made whole again.

“Did you fix this?” Levina asked in awe. She brushed her fingers along the broomstick handle, her eyes wide.

“That’s literally my job. Don’t act so shocked,” Uncle Neil scoffed. “I had help. A forest witch solved the splinter puzzle. I replaced nearly half the bristles, but I kept everything original that I could. I still need an air witch to test the magic. Something seems off in the spellwork. And, no, you are not test driving this.”

“It’s beautiful,” Levina admitted. Honesty really killed her angsty teenage façade. “When are you going to give this to her?”

Uncle Neil laughed nervously. “Levina, I can’t give this to Zephyr now. It’s too much. I stole this from her trash. This is something a crazy person does. If someone did this for me, I’d call the sherriff.”

“But she’s going to leave! You heard that jerk.”

He looked away. “Zephyr has a decision to make. That’s not our business.”

She pressed the palms of her hands to her temples. There was finally one thing she liked in this stupid small town, and now she was leaving.

The side door into the garage opened, and Levina’s mother stumbled through it. “Levina! You’ll never guess who came into the Post this morning! He bought stamps from me, and I got his autograph.”

Levina flinched as her mother handed her an empty envelope with Jaxon Wendt’s scrawled signature where the address should have been.

Uncle Neil drew in a sharp breath as Levina raged, “Why didn’t you ever fight with him?!”

“With that racer?” her mom asked. She glanced at her brother for an explanation, and Uncle Neil just shrugged.

“No!” Levina snapped. “With Dad!”

Her mother’s startled silence and shining eyes were too much. Levina turned away and flew out of the shop for the only refuge she had left.

Chapter 18

Zephyr couldn’t feel her hands or her dangling feet as she hovered on her broomstick. She watched Levina fly in furious loops around an empty field, dodging the occasional lonely tree. Levina’s reaction time was incredible. She had good instincts, too. Her grip strength was really her only weakness, but with the right exercises and proper rest, she would improve there, too.

“Okay, bring it in!” Zephyr shouted. She waited as Levina smoothly flipped upside down to reverse direction. She righted herself and stopped in front of Zephyr, panting and sweating in the unusually bright sun.

Zephyr normally reserved her pep talks for herself, but it was Saturday. The race was tomorrow, bright and really, really early, so it was now or never. It was embarrassing to recite her personal mantra in front of another person, but she needed to tell Levina something honest, something a teenager wouldn’t make fun of. Zephyr nearly backed out of it, but she could see anticipation in Levina’s face. There was hope.

“I’m going to need you to lower your expectations here,” Zephyr commanded. “You’re freaking me out.”

Levina sat down in the grass, her broomstick laid across her lap. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m not saying shit,” Zephyr countered. Then she added, “Close your eyes. Concentrate. More importantly, don’t look at me.”

Levina shut her eyes, peeked with one until Zephyr scowled at her, and finally obeyed. Zephyr cleared her throat. She dropped off her broom, bouncing from heel to toe, and said softly, “This is mine. All of it. The air, the momentum, the fall, but most of all, the rise.” She exhaled, then repeated, “Mine, mine, mine. Rise, rise, rise.”

Shockingly, Levina repeated it like a spell. She gave it a reverence Zephyr wasn’t sure it deserved anymore. Zephyr blew air at the few strands of her hair that had fallen out of place, relieved. Coaching was more personal than she had expected.

“I really want to win.”

Zephyr’s attention snapped back to Levina. “Good.”

“But I’m fighting with my mom,” Levina revealed. Her eyes were wide but dry. Though, if the conversation continued in this direction, Zephyr doubted that would last.