"What is it now?" Linda asked over the phone, sounding perturbed.
"Did you just call me a second ago?" Gretchen asked back.
"What the fuck do you mean 'did I call you'? You answered the fucking thing, don't you remember?" Linda said.
Truthfully, Gretchen wasn't sure. She had this vague notion that she had answered the phone, but that couldn't be, could it? According to her cellphone, Linda's call was a missed call, so she couldn't have picked it up. Linda must have been mistaken.
"Well then tell me again," Gretchen said, not phased at all by Linda's use of profanity, which she would have had a problem with earlier.
Linda groaned, then told her to head to the Spiked Pit to practice for that night. She also told Gretchen to call the other two members of their band to tell them to get their shit together and head to the club as well. Linda didn't want to do it herself, apparently.
Gretchen disconnected the call, then dialed one of the two remaining members of their band.
