Free Left Behind by Laurie Halse Anderson Page B

to you and Zoe about it before.”
    â€œWell, yeah,” Maggie says. “She’s talked about a lot of things. But it’s always been just talk. She’s talked about taking us to Florida again. She’s talked about adding more room to the clinic. She’s talked about taking a cruise to Alaska someday, about taking a night class to learn how to speak Russian. None of those things has ever happened. Why should this be the thing that does?”
    Brenna nods. This makes sense now. I canimagine Maggie thinking that a new vet tech wasn’t very likely. But still . . .
    â€œAdults have dreams, too,” I say. “And I think it’s nice when they talk about them with us.” Maggie looks over at me. It’s almost completely dark, but I can see the annoyance—or is it confusion—on her face.
    I continue, “My parents talk about taking us to the Grand Canyon. They talk about this a couple times a year. They don’t seem to make any actual plans for it, but it seems to make them happy just talking about it. My mother talks about learning tai chi. This hasn’t happened, either. I’m sure your grandmother has many things she’d like to do someday. I imagine hiring a vet tech might make it easier for her to actually do those things.”
    There is a far-off rumble. I can’t tell if it’s a lightning storm or the fireworks.
    Brenna asks, “How would hiring a vet tech help Dr. Mac to do the other things?” We hear a whoosh sound and then a big pop. Fireworks.
    I lean back on my elbows and look up toward the sky to watch. Brenna joins me. Maggie stays sitting cross-legged.
    â€œI think hiring a vet tech means that Dr. Mac could get away from the clinic a little more,” I say.The fireworks are coming faster now. They light up the sky so much that it’s easier to see our faces. I look over at each of them, and think about how lucky I am to have them. Though, to be honest, Maggie still looks a little annoyed.
    As if to prove me right, Maggie jumps in after the next lull in the fireworks. “A vet tech can’t do what a vet can do!” she says. “I don’t think so anyway.”
    â€œDo any of us really know what a vet tech can do?” Brenna asks, then continues, “Oooh, that one was gorgeous.” She points to the big, breaking golden chrysanthemum directly overhead.
    â€œI’m not sure what they can and can’t do,” I say. “But it must be more than what we can do. I bet it would be easier for Dr. Mac to go out of town or take a night class if Dr. Gabe had an assistant to help out. They need more help than just what the Vet Volunteers can do.”
    â€œBut we can do a lot,” Maggie says. “And all of us are learning so much. We’re able to do more and more all the time.”
    Brenna sits up and says to Maggie, “Yeah, but even if we think we know how to do some stuff, there’s plenty we’re not allowed to do or aren’t licensed to do.”
    â€œI suppose,” Maggie says. It’s the first she’s backed down on this. Maybe everything will be better now.
    I pull out my phone to send a good-night/checking-in text to my parents. There is a message waiting for me when I do. It’s from my father’s phone: “We hope you are enjoying your holiday. Your mother and I send our love.”
    I send back a smiley emoji, to let them know I got their message.
    We watch the fireworks through the finale. The fireworks are so loud and so frequent—even more than they were last night—that it feels almost magical. I put my arms around my friends and give them a hug. As the smoke starts to clear, we wonder how the dogs in the kennel and those around town are doing.
    â€œWe may find out in the morning when the first patients arrive,” Brenna says. We crawl into the tent and unzip all the vents and leave the door screened. I don’t know how