Girls: One, two, three!
Coach: Okay, ladies, time to call out the cavalry. We've secured a spot in the playoffs, we're gonna shake it up a little. Wendy and Karen to midfield, Bridget to sweeper.
Coach: You heard me. I don't wanna see you go past midfield, got that? Now go!
Bridget: Dear Lena, when I got your letter I screamed for about 10 minutes. So you found a hottie after all, huh? Well, me too. His name is Eric. Did I mention he's one of the coaches and 100 percent off-limits? But I don't care. I've never wanted anything this much in my entire life. I'm still waiting for Carma-poochie-ay to send me the pants. And in the meantime, I'm throwing all my pent-up energy into soccer although that only seems to get me into more trouble. What can I say? I'm obsessed. And as we all know, obsessed girls cannot be responsible for our actions, can we?
Coach: Pass, Vreeland!
Bridget: Saw you watch me play today. What did you think?
Eric: I don't know if I've ever seen anyone with that much intensity ever.
Bridget: Well, I might've been showing off for you just a little bit.
Eric: Just a little bit?
Eric: No. You know, it's more than that. You scare the hell out of me.
Bridget: "Single-minded to the point of recklessness."
Bridget: It's what the school shrink called me. After my mom died, a few of the teachers thought that, I don't know, I needed to be evaluated or something. So I met with a guy. I talked and he wrote. I've never told anyone that before.
Eric: Okay, Bridget.
Bridget: No, don't say anything. Not now, okay? Hey, come on, I'll race you.