Letters With Boys

"Tally" and Ezra/Bridget and Gray, Week 5 - October

Tally,

I asked my teacher if I could have a new pen pal, but apparently your being a b***h and a tease isn’t a good enough reason for the switch, so here I am.

For future reference: a guy does not drive you all the way to NYC and take you out to a fancy Italian dinner to not get laid.

Ever heard of the phrase quid pro quo?

You really have a thing or two to learn about the world, kid.

Ezra

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Hi Ezra,

It’s funny—I’ve been going back and re-reading the rest of the letters you sent me, and the thing that keeps dawning on me more and more is how stupid you are.

Are you sure that someone who shares your DNA is currently attending an Ivy League? Because you don’t stand a chance, buddy, even with the whole nepotism thing going for you.

For starters, take the letter you just sent me. Do you realize what incredible blackmail that is for me? Don’t get me wrong—I’m not threatening to blackmail you. That would be illegal, and I’m a strict abider of the law. But if I wasn’t, man, could I use that against you. Quid pro quo, seriously? Ever heard of Harvey Weinstein, buddy? Think that worked out well for him?

Okay, technically it did for a long time, but not anymore. And if you asked him, he’d probably say it wasn’t worth it.

Also, for your reference—guys, and HUMANS, do all kinds of things to “not get laid,” as you so eloquently put it. Just this past weekend, Mem’s sweet ex-boyfriend took her to see the Strokes (okay, technically they never made it there, thanks to you, and technically she was the one who took him, but he paid) just to celebrate a non-anniversary. With absolutely no chance of his getting laid. Know why? Because he’s a decent human who cares about her.

Something you apparently don’t know the first thing about.

Really looking forward to seeing what you write next, Ez. Buckling up.

Tally

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Tally,

Get a f*****g clue. This ex-boyfriend of your friend’s absolutely planned on boning her. Know how I know that? Because your friend has a reputation as a slut. Just ask anyone. Why do you think Gray is acting all head over heels in love with her? It’s not because of her “great personality,” I’ll tell you that much.

And you think you’re so smart for threatening to blackmail me? Well, I’ve got dirt on you and your friends, too, b***h. To quote you from previous letters:

“Memphis is kind of a party girl, and a bit of a trouble maker, to boot, so when it’s her turn to call the shots, we usually end up doing something illegal or at least against school rules.”

“Since you asked for specifics, a little hard, in this case, means rolling on X at a club. Which, you know, in the scheme of things, isn’t that bad. It’s not something I would do, mind you. I tried MDMA once, and the come down was way too intense for me, being an athlete and all. I wasn’t in playing shape again for like a week.”

If I’m going down, you and your friends are going down with me.

Ezra

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Gray,

Mrs. Indigo gave me a weird look when I asked her if I could send a letter to someone who wasn’t my pen pal, but then she shrugged and said yes, so here we are.

Firstly, I wanted to let you know that I like you—at least, I think I do. I like the way you like Mem, anyway, which seems sincere.

But secondly, and most importantly, I want to inform you that if it is NOT sincere, and it’s all some kind of ruse to get into her pants, I will burn your house down and skin you alive.

You can’t do that to her, Gray. You just can’t.

Bridget

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Bridge,

Where is this coming from? Did I do something to make you think that was the case?

It’s not—I’d swear it on whatever you asked me to. My little sister’s life, I guess, which is the only thing I really care about besides Memphis.

Is this something she is worried about? She hasn’t said anything like that. Though she certainly seems scared in general. 

I’m coming to see her, and you guys, after school today. With coffee. I encourage you to use whatever psychic powers you might have at your disposal to watch me with her and deduce that I am, in fact, exactly who I say I am and not whatever slime ball you fear I am.

Please believe me, Bridget.

Gray

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Ezra,

You’re wrong about Gray. You’re wrong about a lot of things, it seems. Does this have anything to do with your low test scores and having to transfer out of Lancaster?

What I really want to know is where it starts with people like you. Like, were you just born rotten? Or was it more of a slow rot into the shitty human you are today?

You said your father’s a judge, right? Doesn’t that mean he should have some degree of morals? I think I’m starting to understand why the liberals got so bent out of shape about Kavanaugh. Is that your dad, Gray? Is Kavanaugh your dad?

Would explain a lot.

And what about your mother? Did she really teach you to treat women this way—to call them “sluts” and “bitches” for not sleeping with you after insisting, repeatedly, that they had no intention of sleeping with you? 

I feel sorry for your mother. That, or I feel like she should be arrested. Maybe you should give me more information about her so I can come to the proper deduction.

Oh, and one more thing—it’s not Tally who’s been writing to you this week. She’s way too sweet to say all the s**t that needed to be said, so I took over. My name is Bridget Steinfeld, and I don’t like it when people f**k with my friends. We’ll be requesting an official pen pal switch on Monday, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave both me and Tally alone from then on.

If you don’t, well, be warned, buddy—I’m far scarier than you could ever hope to be.

Bridget

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Gray,

I believe you.

Just don’t f**k it up.

Bridget