We picked the coldest, dreariest corner of Washington DC for our loves and terrible ones to meet us, and we made them get there 90 minutes early. But unlike at the Women's March, you could walk right off the subway without a 90-minute wait, and you could walk right onto Pennsylvania Avenue instead of being shut out by the massive crowd, forced to make your own promenades four or six blocks away. So by the time we walked together to the Teens March for Our Lives, half of our two dozen friends had melted away (and we don't blame them!) to precede us to the rally.