Lincoln was smiling when he climbed into the van, a sly grin that you only wore when you pulled a fast one on somebody. When he saw her, his face fell.

"Sorry, dude," she said, "it's taken."

Sighing, Lincoln sagged and moved to the back, closely followed by Lola, Lana, and Lucy.

On road trips, especially as short as the one they were about to undertake, Luna didn't really care where she sat, just as long as it wasn't near Lori; Lori got carsick and every single time. Luna could deal with a lot of things, like the messiest, smelliest diapers, but she couldn't do puke. Sorry. No way. Baby puke...yeah, gross but manageable. Grown ass adult puke? Not even a little: Seeing it was okay, but smelling it...yeah, screw that. She'd rather wear a shitty diaper on her head than even be in the same room as a pile of barf. Hell, there was this awesome club in town that had indie bands on Friday nights, but she stopped going because people would get drunk on piss warm beer, mosh, then hurl all over your shoes. Yuck.

Other than that, she wasn't hard to please. She'd sit in some gum. Whatever. It really wasn't a big deal; when you live with twelve other people, you eventually learn to relax. The sweet spot was kinda nice, though. You got your own window to roll down, you had circulation, dad couldn't see you putting your feet on the back of the seat...yeah, the sweet spot was rad. Everyone else was all uptight about it, though. Like, they'd fight and claw each other coming out the door just to get to it first. Last time, Luan elbowed Lynn right in the mouth and busted her lip, and Lynn retaliated by kicking Luan's legs out from under her and knocking her down. She couldn't lie, it was funny, but it was sad too. Like damn, chill, we're just going across town. Luna didn't really mean to get out the door first, it just happened; hey, has to happen to someone, right? And being first, yeah, she slid in. Whatever. She wasn't about to go all Fury Road with her siblings for it, though.

Lori climbed into the passenger seat, and Leni slid in next to Luna. Dad got in behind the wheel, his phone pinned between his shoulder and the side of his head. "Yeah...no, Lynn's staying with Lilly, I have the others with me. Yeah. We'll be there in twenty minutes. Love you."

Mom was waiting at the airport, fresh off a business trip to San Francisco. Luna was kind of jealous: San Fran was where it was at. Haight-Ashbury...well, that was pretty much it as far as she was concerned. The Full House houses were kind of alright, and the Golden Gate Bridge was pretty cool, but hippie central was it, man. She'd love to go there one day and see where it was all going down way back.

"We're late," dad worried. He turned around and backed into the street.

"If Luan didn't insist on finding her Graucho Marx glasses, we'd be half way there," Lori said.

"Hey, I wanna greet mom right," Luan said defensively from the back. "Plus, Lisa's the one who blew up the house again. I would have found them quicker if my eyes weren't stinging."

"I am honestly surprised none of you have built up a resistance to smoke and noxious fumes," Lisa said, crossing her arms.

"Speaking of noxious fumes," Lana said. She leaned to the side and farted.

"Uh, gross!" Lincoln yelled.

"You're disgusting!" Lola cried, holding her nose.

"You know what they say," Lana said, "better out than in."

At an intersection, they stopped, then turned right, heading for the interstate. Luna slipped on her headphones and put on music, melodic guitars and pounding drums drowning out the squabbling of her siblings. She gazed out the window, nodding her head in time to the music: It was a beautiful early June day, and everyone seemed to be out enjoying it. It had been a mild Spring and summer, with temperatures barely getting out of the high sixties. It rained more often than usual, too. Smoke it while you got it, they said.

Luna grinned at herself. Okay, maybe that didn't apply exactly, but it was close enough. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she took her 'phones off. Luan was leaning over the seat. "Why do milking stools only have three legs?"

Oh, no. Not another one of these. She'd never rank on her sister's love for comedy, but, man, it made you wanna rip your own eyeballs out. Especially the puns. Sometimes she couldn't tell if Luan was stupid, or a mad genius,

"I don't know," Luna said, humoring her, "why?"

"Because the cow's got the udder."

Luan cracked up and hit the seat with her fist. Luna snickered. It wasn't that bad, plus seeing her laughing made her laugh. "Not bad," she said, "just don't milk it, okay?"

Luna laughed harder, shaking her head. "Stop! I can't!"

Slipping her headphones back on, Luna glanced out the window just as they merged onto the interstate. A tractor trailer blasted past, and the van shook. She looked at Lori, who was deep in conversation with their father, making wild gestures with her hands. It probably had to do with Bobby; they were on the skids lately. All Luna knew was that Lori was really harping on his habits and stuff, which made her sound kind of like a bitch. "Bobby does this, Bobby does that..." She was a bossy thing, too. Luna was all for woman's lib and stuff, but damn, how are you going to have a relationship when you're just as bad as the husband in the fifties?

Though relationships and marriage were waaaay far away for her, one of Luna's secret fears was ending up with someone who threw their weight around. A couple of her friends had boyfriends like that, and it looked miserable; they were always doing what he wanted because he'd pitch a fit if they didn't. Shit like that. Nope. That wasn't for her. Whoever she wound up with would have to be laid back like her. And unlike Lori. She tried to tell her big sis once that she was being pushy with Bobby, but she didn't want to hear it. Lori knows best and all. Guess that goes with being the oldest. You get to play middle management: You're a step above everyone else but still a couple steps below the bigwigs.

Luna pulled out her phone, switched to a different playlist, and leaned back. She saw Lori making wild hand movements, dad glancing in the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes (someone was doing something wrong), and heard a scream. She looked back just as Lola crossed her arms on one side of Lincoln and Lana crossed hers on the other. Lincoln, shoulders sagging and head thrown back in a take-me-now posture, looked like he wanted to rip his hair out.

She turned back, saw dad's eyes still in the mirror, then, in a flash, spotted the tractor trailer ahead, its trailer jackknifing. A car slammed into its cab. Luna's heart jumped into her throat and she screamed. Dad turned around and spun the wheel hard to the left: The tires slid, and suddenly they were rolling, the world a sickening blur. The window exploded, shattering Luna with glass, and she screamed as shards ripped her flesh. Her seatbelt kept her from falling; it also pulled hard against her collarbone, eleciting another scream.

After what felt like a thousand tumbles, the van came to a rest on its wheels. Luan's head slammed against the window frame, and the world began to go gray. In the split second before she passed out, she saw a car hurtling toward them, caught a clear glimpse at the driver's horrified face, felt the impact.

When she came to, she was lying face down on the pavement, her body a patchwork of cuts, bruises, and aches. Her head swam, and when she tried to sit up, a wave of nausea crashed over her; she puked onto the asphalt and almost flopped down into it.

"Take it easy," someone said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at them, her head foggy and throbbing; the bright afternoon sun backlit them, and their face was shadowed. They could have been a man or woman.

"Wh-?" she started, but saw the van. It was sitting in the middle of the highway, the roof crumbled and twisted. The front end was obliterated, twinkling pieces of it strewn across the highway. Blood oozed down the side, staining the jagged metal. Lori was hanging backwards out the passenger side window. She looked strange. Luna squinted, and that's when she realized one of her sister's arms was missing.

The loud, piercing wail of approaching sirens filled the day. People were stopping and getting out of their cars now, running up to the mangled vehicles.

Luna looked away, and saw Leni sitting against the concrete divider, her chin lolling against her chest and blood flowing from a long gash on her head. "This hurts," she moaned.

And Luna, mercifully, blacked out.