When Robin arrives on Sunday, Andi is in the front yard on a lawn chair, knotting a friendship bracelet safety-pinned to the knee of her jeans in robin's-egg blue and two shades of pink.
"If you take them out by hand you have to wait for them to cool," explains Andi, unwrapping her own muffin with careful little pinches too brief to leave burns.
"What do you wanna call it? Oh man, I've been saying things would be good names for bands for years and I can't think of a single one, if I were Bella I would've written them down but I'm not."
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