Skye Ispurdy

“Uncle Mort pounded on the ceiling of the basement.
"I sense affection!" he yelled. "Knock it off, you two!"
Scowling at the camera, Lex retreated to the other end of the couch while Driggs pulled his shirt back down and gave her a disappointed look.
"Next time Crash us to a hotel room, okay?" he grumbled.”
― Gina Damico, Scorch

“Where did you hear that?" he shouted over Driggs' cries of pain from the back seat.
"Driggs told me," she quickly answered.
"Thanks, pumpkin," Driggs groaned. "Love you too.”
― Gina Damico, Scorch

“Driggs, wake up." she shook him. "Driggs!"
"Whaaat?" he groaned, squinting. "Why again? With the shaking?"
She held up the scrap. "I just found this in your pants."
Driggs raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing in my pants?"
She smacked him. "Focus! Read what it says.”
― Gina Damico, Scorch

“So here's the deal: You will sleep in separate bedrooms. You will leave your doors open at all times. You will keep the public displays of affection to a minimum. You will attempt to dismantle any of my surveillance equipment, which, I remind you, covers nearly every room of this house. And if I hear any article of clothing being unzipped, unstrapped, unhooked, or unbuckled, you will lose the body part that it corresponds to. Understand?"
Lex and Driggs looked at each other, then nodded, defeated.”
― Gina Damico, Scorch