11. Chapter 11
“ L evina claims you tried to murder her,” Karah announced as Zephyr arrived at the Post the next morning.
“She’s exaggerating. Mostly. I was only teaching her to fall.
” Zephyr placed her hands on her hips, doing her best to look young and full of life.
In reality, she was wrecked . It had taken a violent attack from Dale to get her out of bed that morning.
And the heat of her shower had done nothing to soothe her sore muscles.
Neil owed her a massage.
“To fall? Isn’t that the opposite of what she should be doing?” Karah asked.
Zephyr disagreed, “Your girl’s a decent racer, but she’s too focused on the racing part.”
“Uh, okay.”
“I was the same way. But for things to go right, you need to know what to do when things go wrong. And when she fell that day, when I saved her? She was falling completely wrong.”
“If this is making the sport safer for her, and you don’t break her, I’m all for it,” Karah replied.
She stepped around the counter and squeezed Zephyr’s forearm.
The air witch tried not to wince. “Thank you for doing this. Also, Levina only complains when she feels comfortable with someone. Take it as a compliment.”
“I’m flattered,” Zephyr returned. “The good news is Levina’s trouble seems like a lack of confidence, rather than a lack of skill. The bad news, she’s the only one that can get herself over that.”
Karah sighed. “How did she take the news?”
“Gods, I didn’t tell her that. Don’t you tell her, either!
” If Levina ever suspected she had the “yips,” she might give up entirely.
“Look, it’s probably a mental block…” The timing of Levina’s struggles aligned with her father’s sudden absence, so Zephyr assumed the two were related.
“…that’s tripping her up. I’ll work with her until the festival’s race, but after that, I really think she should take a break from flying.
For a few weeks. Just to clear her head. ”
“She’s never going to agree to that.”
Zephyr held back from saying anything more.
Levina’s struggles were too close to her own, and it was getting under her skin.
After practicing with Levina, though her body protested, Zephyr had flown upwards, straight as an arrow, until she shook too badly to continue.
It was more height than she’d risked since her fall, but it had left her trembling once she made it back to solid ground.
She really wasn’t the right witch to help Levina.
She understood the girl, but how could she help another when her own issues kept her grounded?
Tawny burst into the Post, her short brown hair still in disarray. Zephyr smirked. “Looks like someone had a long night.”
“I shifted and flew here because I was running late,” Tawny insisted. “It’s nothing.”
“Ooh. Something emotional must have happened with Lyle,” Zephyr whispered to Karah after Tawny vanished behind the breakroom door. “If it were only physical, she wouldn’t spare us the details.”
“I can hardly look that man in the face after what she told us,” Karah agreed.
“I can. Didn’t know the little guy had it in him. I’m sort of proud.”
IT WAS DISSAPOINTING to see the object her life had once centered on now fit inside a single cardboard box.
Zephyr hugged the box to her chest, crinkling the edges of the cardboard. This was a mistake. Also, she doubted what she wanted was even possible. She should turn around. Now.
The bell at the top of the door dinged, distracting her from her fretting. Zephyr blinked at her new surroundings. Her feet had ignored her brain’s worrying and pushed her forward.
Levina occupied the Finnegans’ register. She lazily leaned on the counter, tapping her fingers until Zephyr tried to back out and accidentally rang the bell a second time. Levina popped upright, appearing nervous until she recognized her coach.
“Wow, did you miss me already?” Levina crooned.
Zephyr furrowed her brow. Levina had quickly dropped her adoring fan obsession after only a few lessons with her idol. Now she teased Zephyr whenever the opportunity presented itself. Zephyr huffed. “I can’t miss what won’t leave me alone.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not learning as much from me as I’m learning from you,” Levina teased.
“I have a picture of your shrine to me. I am not above blackmailing a child.”
“Ouch. Well, can I start an order for you? What do you need repaired?” Levina reached out to take Zephyr’s box. Zephyr stepped back. Levina reached forward further. Zephyr stepped back further. “Okay, why are you being so weird?”
“Is Neil working today? I really need him to handle this.”
“Last week, I thought you were the coolest woman alive. Today, you’re pretending to need a repair just to talk to my uncle. Who is not at all cool.”
“No one thinks their family is cool,” Zephyr quipped. “That doesn’t mean—”
“He made me go fishing with him, told me one fun fact about trout, and fell asleep in ten minutes. He’s a hundred years old.”
Well, that was hard to defend. Levina suddenly lunged forward, stealing Zephyr’s box with a gleeful shout. Zephyr tried to steal it back but slammed into the counter in her panic.
Levina peered inside the box, and her smile quickly vanished. “Oh, shit. I didn’t realize—”
“Give it back,” Zephyr ordered, stalking around the counter and snatching the box out of Levina’s now loose grip. “I know you’re still a kid, but that was shitty.” When Levina’s eyes watered, just a little, all the anger fled Zephyr’s heart. She was left tired. That was it. Tired .
“I’m really sorry,” Levina muttered.
Zephyr couldn’t muster a response. She shrugged as she turned away, kicking open the door on her way out.
SHE WAS HALFWAY HOME, contemplating throwing her stupid box into a ditch, when she heard Neil calling after her.
Zephyr spun on her heel. “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you where I live.” She sighed. “Is there any way I can make you go away? I don’t feel like a heart to heart right now.” Where was Dale when she needed his tiny fury?
Neil took his time catching up with her, his work boots only half-laced. His disheveled appearance was annoyingly endearing. He avoided looking at the box she still held as he asked, “Can we sit somewhere? And talk?”
He’d been right before. She wanted to run away. From anything real. She wanted to run from him now. He looked at her too gently, and while she’d found it intriguing before, now it seemed frightening.
Like he was too much for her, and she was too little for him.
But even as her doubts protested, Zephyr stepped off the path to her home and walked through the trees until she found a grassy spot where the sky opened up.
She sat down, setting her box aside, and fell onto her back.
The bright sky blinded her—her eyes spared by an occasional falling leaf blocking out the sun.
Neil lay next to her, silent but unavoidable. She could feel the heat of his body, and it confused her further.
“I’m not mad at her,” Zephyr said. She inhaled, staring at the clouds rolling in. “I just didn’t want her to see. I didn’t really want you to see either.”
“Levina didn’t tell me what it was,” Neil admitted. “And I don’t have to see whatever it is. Not if you don’t want me to.”
“I don’t think you can fix this,” she whispered.
He didn’t push. He simply waited. But Zephyr knew he was nervous.
His body buzzed with a faint sheen of electricity, and it was Neil’s anxiety that made her let him in.
This mattered to him—it really mattered.
Even though he had no idea what she was about to share with him.
He wanted in, but was so afraid of pressuring her that he was inadvertently turning himself into a live wire.
What an adorable idiot.
Zephyr sat up, dragging her box between them and being very careful not to bump into him. She opened the flaps and sat back, letting him discover her secret for himself.
“Oh, hells,” he muttered, and she could see he was already in “troubleshooting” mode. She saw him mouth, how can I fix this as he pawed through the contents.
“Yeah, she’s in pretty bad shape.”
“She’s fucked,” Neil said flatly. He cringed. “I shouldn’t have said it that way. I meant—”
Zephyr closed her eyes and fell back into the grass. “I know it’s hopeless. I just…”
“Hey.” A shadow fell over her, and when she fluttered her eyelids, she found Neil leaning over her. He hesitantly brushed a thumb down the side of her cheek, erasing the single tear that had formed there. “Are you sure you found all the pieces?”
“What difference does that make?” she sniffed, sitting up and gently pushing him away. She grabbed her box and stood up. Her old racing broom, reduced to splinters and broken straw, rattled as she closed the flaps. She didn’t want to look at it anymore. “I was being stupid,” she said to Neil.
“Hang on,” he protested. “Let me take it to the shop and just have a better look—”
“No. It’s over. It’s done.” She brushed him off, taking the path back to her cabin alone. She didn’t look back, and every step she took sank her heavier into the earth. Once she reached her driveway, she dumped the box on the ground next to the already full trash can.