Left Behind by Laurie Halse Anderson Page A

planned on telling you the first night of this weekend. I had planned on us making a list of kitten names and maybe even watching a cat documentary that I brought. But then things got a little hectic at the clinic. Plus, you were kind of mad about Mrs. Van Hoven that night, and I wanted to tell you when you could be happy for me.
    â€œThen the next night we camped outside, which would have made it hard to look at my kitten-litter pictures and make the list.”
    â€œYou should have said something,” Maggie says. “We could have done all that.”
    â€œBut you guys wanted to camp out,” I say.
    Brenna says, “We didn’t have to. We could have at least talked about it.”
    â€œI guess so,” I say. I start folding the tent with Maggie while Brenna puts the poles in the nylon bag.
    I’m tempted to stop there and just let it drop, but I don’t. “I was going to tell you last night,” I say. “But with everything going on, I didn’t want to mention it.”
    â€œWell, I’m sorry if I made it hard for you to tell me,” Maggie says. “But you know, I would have been less cranky thinking of your new kitten.”
    Brenna laughs. “That might have helped. Butmaybe not.” Then Brenna turns to me and says, “Sunita, as long as we’re being honest about things, I’d like to point something out to you.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” I ask. I help Maggie stuff the tent into the larger nylon bag.
    â€œWhen you want the last slice of pizza, or maybe a peach, you should just say so,” Brenna says.
    I laugh.
    â€œReally, Sunita.” Brenna stops dropping the stakes into the bag and looks at me. “I’m serious.”
    â€œA piece of pizza doesn’t matter. If someone else wanted it, I wouldn’t have starved,” I say. Really, Brenna is making a big deal out of something so trivial.
    â€œThis time it’s pizza, next time it’s saying what you really want to do,” Maggie says.
    What? I don’t say anything for a minute. I try to think about what they’re saying. Maybe they’re right. I didn’t help with the horse, Tinker, when I wanted to. But Maggie knew I was nervous around horses. So I really didn’t mind that she jumped in, did I? And all that business with my telling them about my new kitten—I was just being silly. Then I think about other times when I hold back a little. But isn’t that kind of me? To let others go first. Choose first?
    â€œI’m just being nice,” I say.
    â€œYou don’t have to be nice, Sunita. You are nice,”Brenna says. “But if you never say what you really want, how can we know?”
    I think about Sylvester, how he needed me to speak up for him. And how it didn’t upset Mrs. Van Hoven when I did.
    â€œBrenna’s right,” Maggie adds. “We can’t read your mind. We don’t know what you really want. It’s like you’re deciding for us instead of letting us all decide on things together.”
    â€œI guess you’re right. I’m not being fair. To you guys, or to myself,” I say. “I never thought of it that way. It’s just hard for me to speak up sometimes.”
    â€œI get that,” Maggie says. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to shut up. But we’re all cool now, right?” Maggie asks.
    â€œWe’re cool,” I say.
    â€œUber-cool,” says Brenna. “Especially compared to the last couple days.”
    We laugh and carry the tent to Dr. Mac’s garage and shove it up onto the shelf.
    I look at these two good friends of mine, and I realize that I can tell them anything. “You know, I’ve been thinking—” I start.
    â€œSounds dangerous,” Maggie interrupts, laughing.
    â€œNo, I’m serious,” I say. “You know I want to be a vet. But the big animals scare me. Maybe you can help me learn how to get more used to