On a new campus with newfound freedom and responsibility, it was a bit of a bumpy ride. Our permits soon turned into licenses, which oftentimes quickly turned into our first accidents. The heretofore mysterious world of high school parties became open to us. Our calves became strong as we traversed the vertical upper school campus daily. Our minds became strong as we slowly acclimated to a quantum leap in workload. An elite cadre dubbed themselves the Dreamboyz and just like that 18 guys ascended to the class aristocracy. We stood in awe of Meg Norton as she and the rest of the volleyball team obliterated the competition on the way to a state title. We had to arrive at school excruciatingly early to secure a spot on Coldwater, since sophomores aren’t permitted to park on campus. The first clouds of the college process storm gathered as we started to think about SATs, APs, GPAs and three-year plans. Sadly, though, we didn’t all make it out of sophomore year. After two midterms were stolen, we lost several of our own forever. No one said it wouldn’t be a bumpy ride.