Free Alliance by Lacy Williams as Lacy Yager, Haley Yager

little hop into the truck, sliding into the middle seat. I catch a whiff of her lavender scent again. How does she still smell that good after the events of the evening?
    “Hi,” Chloe says on a yawn.
    “Hey, Chloe. You can go back to sleep if you want.”
    My sister looks at Blondie with wide eyes, then back at me as I get in. She leans a little more on the passenger door. Good girl.
    I turn the truck towards E.W. House. Hopefully we’ll beat most of the morning traffic, so I’ll only be stuck sitting next to a vampire for twenty minutes instead of forty.
    Blondie’s cell phone rings. “Hello? Hey, Hannah. I’m on my way back. No, I’m fine. Rachel’s brother is driving me.” A long pause. “I can’t talk right now. I can’t talk right now. Okay, see you.”
    Well, there goes my chance of killing Blondie and ditching her body. If someone is expecting her at the school and they know that I’m with her, I won’t have a good alibi for the cops. Guess I’ll have to play nice again.
    I reach to flip the radio on and my hand brushes Blondie’s knee. She flinches away, which makes Chloe jump, which makes me go for my knife and my hand hits the volume knob instead, filling the cab with loud static. I punch the “off” button. Okay, so no music.
    “Sorry,” I mutter.
    The silence stretches and is getting really awkward—all I can focus on is the heat of Blondie’s thigh pressed against mine—when Chloe bends over and reaches under her seat. She comes up with a handful of granola bars.
    “Breakfast,” she says cheerfully. How that girl can survive on a couple hours sleep I’ll never know. “Want one?” She extends one of the bars to Blondie, who waves it away.
    “Um, no thanks.”
    Yeah, it’s not blood-flavored, Chloe.
    “Shane?” Chloe asks.
    “Not right now.”
    “No wonder you had that gauze in your truck last night,” Blondie comments.
    We’re at a stoplight, so I look around the interior of my truck and pretend it’s the first time I’m seeing it. I can’t help but flush with embarrassment. Not only are the floorboards covered in fast food trash, but there are also clothes—Chloe’s—and shoes—mine—plus a couple books, a Boston street map, even some cash.
    It looks like I live out of my truck. Maybe because I do, for the most part. Still, how humiliating to have her see all this.
    “So how did you know those girls?” Chloe asks around a mouthful of granola.
    “I met them at the hospital the same day I met you.”
    “You didn’t know them before that?”
    Blondie shakes her head, sending the scent of her shampoo towards me. It’s different than the lavender. Apple, I think.
    “Why’d you help them?”
    This is nice. With Chloe awake, she’ll do the inquisition for me. Thank you, eight-year-old’s curiosity.
    “Why wouldn’t I? I mean, if I were in that kind of trouble I’d like to know someone willing to help me out.”
    I hold my breath waiting for Chloe to pop off and say she expected Blondie wouldn’t help them because she’s a leech and blow our cover, but my kid sister surprises me by ignoring the question.
    “How old are you?”
    Blondie’s hand twitches in her lap. “Seventeen. How old are you?”
    Seventeen human years plus how many immortal? A hundred? More?
    “Eight.”
    I haven’t been paying enough attention to the road—more interested in what’s going on inside the truck. I’m too close to the car in front of me, and when it slams on its brakes I have to swerve into the other lane to avoid rear-ending the guy. Blondie’s shoulder crashes into my chest and her cheek brushes my jaw before she rights herself in her seat. Her hand creeps across her lap and I reach for the knife under my left thigh, but she just tightens the lap belt.
    “Sorry,” I mutter again.
    Maggie smiles and her eyes flicker to my face and away. “So, eight is what… third grade?”
    “Yep,” Chloe answers.
    “Well, I hope I’m not going to make you late for school since