Locking the door felt odd—she didn’t have a single memory of her grandmother ever carrying a key. But the house was her responsibility for the summer, and she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone breaking in. She wished she had the money to buy it herself. Losing this place was going to be like losing Nana all over again. Jamie stood at the end of their driveways with her hands on her hips. “Red, white and blue? Really?” Gabriella looked down at her clothes. “It’s the Fourth of July. What’s wrong with it?” Jamie threw her hands in the air and started walking. “I don’t know how you could have grown up in Boston and still have zero fashion sense.” “You know I don’t care about that.” She didn’t. She definitely hadn’t chosen the red tank because it clung to her breasts in just the right way, hadn’t picked out the blue-and-white striped shorts because she knew they made her ass look good.
