Page 37 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

“Oh, I’m doing that on purpose.”

“Then I won’t be good.”

Chapter 20

Dawn greeted Zephyr as she stood barefoot on her porch with her comforter wrapped around herself. Today was a race day. Maybe not her race day, but she felt that bubbling energy, that inability to sit still, and she knew eventually she’d feel eerily calm.

The door creaked open, and Neil stepped outside, his green flannel unbuttoned and revealing a sturdy chest that would have distracted her on any other morning. He grumbled, “You didn’t have to take the only blanket with you.”

Zephyr draped her blanket over his shoulders before sliding close to him and burying her face into his chest for warmth. He huffed, but he wrapped the blanket around her, too. “I’ve never felt nervous before a race,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.”

“It’s because someone else is doing the flying. You’re sitting back and just hoping you’ve done enough to prepare her.”

She hummed in agreement, putting some space between them as she leaned back. She decided she was going to wear her old number today, even if it made her feel a little self-conscious. Even if Jaxon saw. Gods, she hoped he had already left town.

“I need to head to Karah’s place. I’m sure she’s pretending to not be a mess.” Neil gave her back her blanket, kissed her forehead, and left.

She was secretly glad to be alone. No matter how much she opened her heart, she wanted the morning of a race day to stay just for her. Though, this wasn’t technically her race, was it? After taking a moment to pout, Zephyr went inside and changed into her old racing jacket. The 33 on her back felt heavy, but good.

It was time to find her student.

ZEPHYR FOUND LEVINA HYPERVENTILATING behind a tree. A softball bat bag was in the grass next to Levina, her broomstick likely stored inside.

“We’re air witches, Levina,” Zephyr announced. “We’ll catch our breath.”

“I’m not afraid of that. I’m afraid I’m going to puke.”

“I’d hold your hair back, but it’s already in a braid, so…”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Levina stood up, covering her mouth with a hand. “Gods, I just want this to be over.”

“It’s a low-altitude race. Perfectly safe.”

Levina opened her mouth before she shook her head and handed over her phone. Zephyr scanned the text message and cringed. Levina’s dad had finally responded to his invitation to the race. “A thumbs up? That’s it?

“That’s it,” Levina confirmed.

Zephyr probed, “Does that mean he’s coming to watch your race?”

Levina scoffed. “It means he didn’t even read my message. Just reacted to it. What’s worse is that my mom saw it. She started baking cupcakes.”

“Is that bad?”

“The cupcakes? No, they’re pretty good, and they’re pumpkin spice.”

“No, the sporadic baking. Is that a bad sign? Is she freaking out?”

“She’s always freaking out. She just doesn’t show it. I really want to win this. I want to shove it in his face.” Levina took her phone back and picked up her bat bag.

Zephyr stopped Levina from slinging the bat bag over her shoulder. “Wait. I need to inspect your broomstick.” Zephyr whipped out a small manual, squinting at the tiny writing within. She wondered if she should mention revenge was not a good reason for racing.

“The judges will make sure my broom meets regs,” Levina complained.

“And I’ll make sure it’s safe. Hand it over.”

“You’ve seen it a dozen times,” Levina grumbled. She turned away, digging through her bag before carefully sliding out her worn broom. “Here.”

Zephyr inspected the handle for any cracks or chips and ran her fingers over the red bristles. The weight wasn’t as well-balanced as she would have liked, but it would do. Until Levina let her buy her a new broomstick, at least.