Page 32 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

Chapter 17

Levina

Pumpkin Hollow was nothing like Florida.

Sure, it lacked the bugs and the humidity. Levina couldn’t say she missed any of that. But she missed her friends. The beach. The gators, the cute, bumbling and awkward creatures they were. What she missed most of all was reading the newspaper with her mom and competing to find the wildest story titled “Florida Man…”

Levina also missed her dad. She wasn’t sure if she should. Even though her mom had tried to shield her teenage daughter from their marital problems, Levina had felt something…slipping. Her dad was distracted. During her races at school whenever she passed him, he was staring down at his phone, instead of cheering her on.

He used to log her race time on the side of the front door. Every time. It was their version of a height chart. Look how fast you’ve gotten!

Parents sometimes drifted apart. Levina hadn’t realized she’d be left behind, too.

The only thing that had kept her sane as she packed up her life in the south for the northeast, was discovering that her favorite racer had moved to Pumpkin Hollow, too.

She remembered Zephyr McAllister’s last race—the Grand Canyon route. She had watched her idol inexplicably lose control and clip a canyon wall. Zephyr had spun wildly, and, something Levina didn’t think was possible, lost hold of her broom. The hawk familiars following her, wearing cameras to record her every move, filmed her fall. When she landed, she had lain so still before the network had cut off the feed.

And then Jaxon Wendt had flown by, finishing in first place. He never even looked down.

Never looking up. Never looking down.

Levina headed to the office filing cabinet, flipping through the forms and making a mental list of which ones needed more copies printed. Uncle Neil stood behind the counter, a stack of Hattie’s mismatched paperwork before him. He frowned and muttered to himself as he reorganized it.

Her after-school job at the shop was easy—too easy. The shop didn’t need a teenager hanging around, but her uncle had insisted it was necessary. Levina also knew, after asking some of her new classmates who also had after-school jobs, that he was grossly over-paying her. Probably because her mom wouldn’t accept any money for herself. She tried to feel grateful instead of embarrassed. Most days she was unsuccessful.

The bell at the corner of the front door dinged, and Levina looked to see who had entered. It was already surreal to share a town with a former professional racer—it was insane to see Jaxon Wendt walk inside her family’s shop.

He lingered in the doorway, one leg in and one leg out, and scanned the room rapidly until he settled his gaze on her uncle. He flashed a winning grin and stepped fully inside.

“Finally. I’ve been all over this backwater town looking for you.” Jaxon approached the counter, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

Uncle Neil stiffened. “That seems ill-advised.”

“Relax! I’m not here to fight you,” Jaxon said with a booming laugh. He leaned his back against the counter and spoke over his shoulder. “I come in peace.”

“That’s good for you,” Uncle Neil replied. “Now, unless you need something fixed, leave. Actually, just leave.”

Levina watched the exchange with a horrifying realization. Her uncle was definitely dating her idol. She had known it was a possibility, but it was all so weird that she hadn’t taken it seriously.

Jaxon turned around, taking a business card from the stack next to the register. He tapped the card on the counter, still grinning. “Hey, no hard feelings. It’s just business. Zephyr’s had her fun, hiding out here with the rabble, but we both know where she really belongs.”

Uncle Neil said flatly, “Did you rehearse this?”

Jaxon doubled down. “Stay out of her way. Stay out of her head.” He pushed off the counter, walking back out the door. “She’s a racer. She’s not going to stay for your omelet or pancakes or whatever the fuck you cooked her this morning.”

Sometimes Levina wished Uncle Neil had a temper, but he only stared as Jaxon left, remaining grim and silent. Litter sent him into a rant, but people? Just like her mom, Uncle Neil hardly reacted to abuse.

Levina felt her stomach churn and she blurted harshly, “Just because you’re a storm witch, that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be pissed! You should have told him to fuck off! Your magic isn’t going to destroy the town if you let yourself feel something just once.”

His brow furrowed. “Are you allowed to say that word?”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Hmm.”

She threw her hands up at his lack of reaction. “Ugh! You’re just like Mom. You’re bottling everything up, and one day, it’s all going to explode.”

Now he looked serious. “Is everything okay with your mom? Do you want to—”