RIVERTaylor’s hand on the steering wheel has veins bulging, and his knuckles are white. I tap his thigh gently, and he turns to me, only meeting my gaze for a slight moment before he has to look back on the road. Talia is in the back seat trying to make conversation to alleviate the tension, but her attempts are futile. “So how was your trip?” "I have never gone on a road trip before," I said, turning to her slightly. “Your brother said it was going to be fun, and I am glad I listened to him,” I murmured. Taylor is still as stiff in the driver’s seat, eyes on the road, but steaming like he was going to boil over. “Did you both stop over at the gas station to get snacks?” Talia continued. I nodded eagerly. “It was the best part for me,” I said with a gleeful smile at her. “Before my father got into this political mess and situation, he always took us on road trips,” she said, and Taylor, whom I thought couldn’t get more stiff, literally turned to a statue at the wheel. “It was
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