John Stewart

“Raj, hang on. I need to—”  “Don’t try explaining anything to me. I understand just fine.” He stared at Piper for an elongated moment. Raj knew what he wanted; he knew who were his friends and foes; he knew exactly where he had to go and what he needed to know. About those things, Piper could only guess, but the minute they’d left the station courtyard he’d shouted directions to Jons that had steered them toward the big blue pyramid.”
― Sean Platt, Annihilation

“He bailed on football practice.” As soon as the words left me, my stomach pitched. This wasn’t any of Phil’s business. He chuckled. “So, the Golden Boy isn’t so golden after all.” He lifted his arm toward my house. “Walk you home?” “Um . . . OK,” I heard myself agree.”
― Kerry Lonsdale, Everything We Keep

“Thirty, forty miles?”  “Well,” said Lila, verbally pouting. “I guess we’d better settle in for a long trip.”  She pushed her body even harder against Raj, then glared at the side of her father’s head. Lila and Trevor got along with Meyer, but they were still teenagers. Piper, recently a teen herself, tried to understand, but often there was no use. Somewhere around your twenty-second birthday, teenagers started sounding like melodramatic idiots no matter what you did.  “That’s another reason to get a hotel room,” Piper said. “They might let planes fly again. We can take the Gulfstream.”
― Sean Platt, Invasion

“Clay nodded again. “I’ll do my best sir.” “Good,” Miller said. “Now, what is it about these dolphins that you wanted to share?”
― Michael C. Grumley, Breakthrough