I can see the SkyRail station coming up on our right. It’s a massive coral-and-white structure floating hundreds of feet in the air. The SkyRail trains shoot through the sky and dock on the electric rails at the center of the station.

Mr. B pulls off the road and brings the car to a stop on the northbound side of the SkyRail station. “Here we are,” he announces in a dorky voice that kind of reminds me of my dad.

I pull my backpack onto my lap from where it rests by my feet. “Thanks for driving me. I really appreciate it.”

“All in a day’s work,” he says. “You ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

“Okay. Bye!” I slip out of the car, tugging my heavy backpack along with me, and hike up the stairs to the platform to buy my ticket.

Mom insists that we sit down and eat a family dinner once Dad and I are both home. Even though I’m sweating bullets thinking about all the homework I have, I don’t protest. You don’t fight with Mom about family dinner. You will lose and come out worse for the wear.

“How’s the car?” Mom says, sliding into her seat at the table. She smiles at Dad, though her hazel eyes still look worried.

“It’s seen better days,” Dad says. “The flight fail-safes are the fritz again. I flew it off the highway exit, and it just fell straight down onto the road below like a hunk of scrap metal. Bob said he would do his best.”

Bob is the mechanic we go to. I think he’s basically holding our car together with sheer force of will at this point. The magic in car engines is incredibly complicated and, therefore, incredibly expensive to fix. We can’t afford a new car, so Bob keeps repairing the same problems in our engine over and over again.

“Did he give you a quote?” Mom says.

“Yes.” Dad leaves it at that and starts eating the catfish Mom fried up. Mom doesn’t ask anything more.

“That was nice of Mr. B to give you a ride to the station,” she says eventually.

“He really insisted on doing it,” I say. “I know you and Dad would have figured out a way to get me, but I guess he thought it would be faster if he just drove me.”

“Thank him for me.” She looks tired. Exhausted, really. The circles under her eyes have deepened.

“I will,” I say.

After dinner, I linger in the kitchen, setting up my potionworking supplies for my AP Potions project. Luckily, Mom leaves the kitchen first, so I leap at my chance to interrogate Dad. “How much is the car going to cost to fix this time?”

He sighs, pulling a box of cookies from the cabinet. “Don’t worry about it, Shay. We’ll figure it out.”