"All right, people, let's go somewhere else." Ironic that he even calls us "people" because the way he says it, he obviously doesn't believe that his words are intended for actual "people." We are never "people." We don't ask so much. Every morning Coach Fucking Brooks wants us to "move along" speaking generically into the air and onto the heads a foot or so below his level. Hey Coach, what's wrong with us right here? Are we in somebody's way? Sure, we are standing by some lockers but we are ready and willing to scoot over if some kid needs his books. Where are we supposed to go? Is there a designated spot in this huge school that we don't know about where we're allowed to see our friends before homeroom? Shouldn't it be okay to just be us for a few minutes before we slide back into the daily grind, just to have this one moment? Each of us could walk to our various homerooms in thirty seconds or less. We've been to our lockers. We've got no particular place to be. So Coach Brooks, where the fuck are we SUPPOSED to be? I don't want to be listening to the gory little details of my locker partner's Floridian spring break and I know she won't ask me about mine once she is fucking done, two minutes before the bell rings. Hey I can't see my friends after school. They're busy at Bridge Builders and Mock Trial and Model UN meetings. Plus, we were working so hard on AP applications a week ago, and with all these projects and essays on the weekends... No, these are "people" who don't have time for me outside school. But remember, this is White Station! We are too busy with Extra-Curricular Activities and racking up the Service Hours to have friends! Much less, TALK to them! Heaven forbid, what if we actually got to SEE them sometimes? Oh no, what if we fell that far off our Spartanian horses? What if that happened? We wouldn't get into the right colleges, and we would lead terrible, poor lives! Lives of LOVE, not MONEY!! Because "people" are money, school is money, SUCCESS is money! And didn't you know? Success is power. Success is me in a suit. Success is my husband coming home from a hard day at the office to his loving wife and kids, and a great from-scratch Southern meal. I will be successful!! Fuck yr Princeton! Give me community!!! But look at these "people," they are beautiful individuals. We are writers and artists and we're going to make movies together. We're going to get married and move to California. FUCK YOU, COACH! YOU CAN'T COME!