Cory threw the clarinet case on the couch and went to the kitchen. “I didn’t go,” she called back, trying to sound casual. She opened a cabinet and stared inside. None of the boxes of cookies or chips appealed to her.
Jessica appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorway.
Cory turned her back and opened the refrigerator. Now that the immediate fear was past, she felt embarrassed. Embarrassed about being such a quitter—or rather, not even trying. What was she supposed to say? I dived out of there before I even played a note? I left because I was afraid of the bandleader?
Jessica was trying to be nice, for a change, which made Cory feel even meaner for some reason. “Nothing happened, okay?” She slammed the refrigerator door and brushed past Jessica as the front door opened.
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