Disclaimer: I'm bumping the rating up to Teen because there will most likely be some heavier swearing in the future and I'm not taking chances. Also I'm not the owner of Hamilton, let's get right to the chapter.

I sit in the backseat, clutching my knees to my chest. Red curls drape over my tightly woven fingers, faded since I last dyed my hair. Making myself small is a talent I learned from my mother. "If you try hard enough, you can become invisible in any bad situation, hija," she told me with a smile.

Okay, mom. Sure.

I glance at Susannah from the corner of my eye. My older sister sits with her legs crossed tightly, staring out the window as if she could shatter it and escape. Her fists are clenched in her lap. Red streaks trail from her eyes, gray beneath her lashes where the mascara came off.

James grips the wheel like he's trying to crush it between his fingers. I know he's just trying to keep them from shaking. The unwanted side effect of a hangover is like a car alarm to policemen who know what to look for. If it weren't for the shaking, he could get away with being drunk all the time. Even after noon he's still stuck in Happy Hour.

I slowly crane my neck to see the speedometer tick past seventy-five, seventy-seven, eighty. I can almost hear the coroner's voice, see my body drained of blood and lying on a pedestal.

Cold and lifeless.

James' eyes flick to the rear view mirror, making eye contact. My eyes play laser tag with his in the reflection and I sink back into the seat.

Spanish prayers run through my head as I reach inside my shirt and grasp the cross hanging there. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros…

Mama says she named me after María so I would feel protected. Of course, I grew up hearing it pronounced "Ma-ri-uh" and not "Ma-ree-uh" by everyone but my mother. The accented i, it seemed, threw people off.

Alexander told me once that the former sounded "prettier" to him, so I stopped correcting people after that. I dropped the accent over the i and haven't changed it since. Besides, it got annoying.

A sudden jerk makes the seat belt cut into my ribs. I gasp and James' head whips around. "Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

The asshole is strong in this one, I think to myself. "Sorry, James." My voice comes out as a whisper. It's not a valid reason for him to get mad and it's just irritating enough to warrant a reaction.

"What?"

"She's sorry." Susannah answers for me. Her voice wavers when she speaks. From fear or her crying, I don't know.

"Damn right she's sorry," he murmurs under his breath, as if there's venom on his tongue. He always tries to not let us hear what he really wants to say.

Don't know who you're trying to fool, James.

I press my face against the window. There's a toll booth up ahead, sun shining off the cars lined up behind it. Immediately, fantasies of opening the door, kicking James in the head, and sprinting across the roads to freedom flash before my eyes.

He honks at someone as he slows the car and mutters a stream of curses.

James has different words for different situations. Road Rage is different than Vodka and Cigarettes, which is different from the Girls Are Pissing Me Off, which is similar to I Hurt Myself in Some Infinitesimal Way but is not even remotely close to Can't Get The Keys In the Door Because My Hands Are Shaking From Nicotine Withdrawal.

"Do either of you have cash?" James turns around (a full-body-eyes-off-the-road turn, I might add) and scowls when we shake our heads.

"Um… you have a pass," I say, nodding my head towards the little white box on the windshield.

James stares at me blankly. "Right."

Which means the moment he snaps into focus and turns back to the road he also slams his foot into the gas pedal, making the car jolt forward violently. I bite my lip hard before another gasp escapes. Oww. Son of a bitch.

We zoom through the toll booth… and get absolutely nowhere. It's backed up beyond the horizon.

James curses again.

Family fun, amiright?

~~~

We haven't moved for at least ten minutes. Susannah is playing a game on her phone, judging by her finger movements. The phone is in silent mode so not to set James off.

I'm toying with a strand of my hair, twirling and fraying the scarlet ends between my fingers, when the car picks up speed.

And keeps picking up speed.

Oh, Jesus.

A series of honks erupts from around us. I lift my head to look at the road.

Wait, what?

I blink hard and wait for my eyes to refocus.

The entire bridge is cleared to one side. Every car is pulled over, all the way down.

We zoom past them. James is completely still, his eyes staring straight forward as if he's trying to vaporize the road.

"How fast are you going?" My sister's voice is masking panic. "You have to slow-"

"We're fine," James says curtly. "Don't you worry." Less of a reassurance and more of a command.

I don't know if he's lying to himself or to us, but he's blatantly wrong. We're too fast on the bridge to be safe.

Wheeooooo, woowwwweeeeeooo, woooowowwwwweooo…

"Well isn't that something," James says in a falsely positive voice that's dripping in sarcasm. "The cops are here, for the safety of us all."

I stare out the window. What does he know about safety, anyway?

"Say that again."

I shift my gaze. James is glaring at me, turned completely around.

My breath catches. I said that out loud.

Shit.

I take a deep breath and look James straight in the eye. My hands are shaking, so I clench them into fists.

"I said," I repeat, "You know nothing about safety. Look at you, hungover, driving down the highway at-" I lean past him to see the speedometer- "eighty-two miles an hour, not even paying attention to the freaking road. You're a hot mess." I'm can hear my voice getting louder.

Wowoowowoowowoowowoo

The look on James' face could melt ice cream.

Man, I want ice cream.

"Shut the hell up," he says through clenched teeth. "You…"

I know what he wants to say, and I cut him off. "Slut? Whore? I'm way ahead of you." My voice is wobbling, either from anger or fear. Ugh, I hate when it does that. "Y-you think you can get-t away with anything when Mom isn't around, but I s-see right through you, James Reynolds."

I've been planning my next words for a long time.

That sounded dramatic.

I've been planning my next words for three minutes.

"You. Repel. Me."

Something flashes in James' eyes.

Hurt.

Insert explosion noises.

Give me my Oscar.

I'd like to thank Benedict Cumberbatch for his delivery of that line in Series Two, Episode Three of BBC's Sherlock-

WHAM.

A screech escapes my throat. James swears loudly. "What the-"

A sheet of metal is flung from the front of the car. James swerves and Susannah screams.

WHOOOOOWOWWWEEEOOOOO-

"FIND A PLACE TO PULL OVER," Susannah shrieks to no one in particular. She's a bit hysterical. "¡¿PODRÍAS SER MÁS UN IDIOTA IMPRUDENTE?!"

Jesus Christ.

Despite James' Spanish being at a sixth grade level, he understands enough to be insulted. "DON'T YOU START, SUSANNAH!"

"VETE A LA MIERDA!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH! I AM TAKING VALUABLE TIME OUT OF MY BUSY SCHEDULE TO TAKE YOUR TWO UNGRATEFUL-"

"WILL YOU BOTH STOP SCREAMING?!"

Silence. They stare at me.

"Pull over."

This time, he actually does. Apparently I am now worthy of his attention.

Inhale.

"I am sick," I begin, "of you two shrieking at the top of your lungs like you aren't in a public environment. And don't you dare say a word, James," I add at his scowl. "We're on a road. It's public. Either listen or drive like you're supposed to. We can at least pretend like we're a family." I address James. "The minute we're off this bridge, you're going to pull over and get your shit together-"

I pause mid-sentence and realize something.

We are off the bridge.

And we're pulled over.

And there are two police cruisers parked across the street, no cops in sight.

"Are you freaking kidding me-"

"Sir?" An officer appears out of nowhere next to the window.

The sight of him sends a chill down my spine.

Not again.

"Sir?" He speaks firmly. "Please get out of the vehicle."

*inhale*

I'M REALLY REALLY SORRY I DIDN'T GET A CHAPTER OUT LIKE TWO WEEKS AGO WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO BECAUSE I WAS BUSY WITH A MUSICAL THE ENTIRE MONTH OF MARCH AND THE FIRST WEEK OF APRIL AND I ALSO HAD A LOT OF SCHOOLWORK TO CATCH UP ON BECAUSE OF MY SCHEDULE CHANGE AND I'LL HAVE A NEW CHAPTER OUT AS FAST AS HUMANLY POSSIBLEEEEEE *exhale*

But I really hope you liked it. Fun fact- Maria did have a half-sister named Susannah. I made her Hispanic just for fun.