"I'm going with genetics, and I'm blaming your father. Sorry."
"Figures.", she rolled her eyes while idly swinging last year's medal from its ribbon.
"MIKE! Hurry up. We're ready. The taxi's going to be here any second."
"He's probably still deciding which shoes looks coolest. Idiot. Ah, taxi! Oh...nope. Wrong one.", Katie groaned and bent to tighten her own runners.
"No, here it is now. MIKE! Now!"
"He can catch up", Katie rolled herself out the door as the driver lowered the ramp.