Letters With Boys

Memphis and Gray, Week 14 - December

Mem—

Well, that was quite a weekend.

Is Bridget okay? I can’t really relate to how she must be feeling right now, but I can only imagine it’s pretty brutal. You never mentioned anything about her being gay, which, considering how often you talk about your friends, sort of signifies to me that you probably didn’t know. And considering how close you are, that sort of signifies to me… well, some complicated s**t, to put it mildly.

Are you okay? It was pretty sexy seeing you get all stern and yell at everyone to get out of Bridget’s house, though less so when you kicked me out. 

I get it, though. She needed you more than I did that night. I just hope you’re both okay.

As for your last letter, which, like most of your letters, left me feeling both uplifted and distressed… well, all I can really say is, men are pigs. I find it hard to believe that I, Grayson Gehrig, who, four short months ago, was asking you for advice about how not to be a pig, am somehow the least piggish one of all. Isn’t consent one of the most basic things we men should be asking for in this day and age? I mean, it’s not exactly a hard thing to do. “Hey, Mem, wanna bone today? Not yet? Okay, cool.”

(Not that I would ever be so blunt and unsexy about it. I'd for sure ask, but I do pride myself on reading your body language very well. Especially those cute, little whimpers you make. There’s one that means “I’m nervous and we should slow down” and one that means “that feels really good and you should keep doing it.” There are a few others, too, but I know you and I know your cheeks are turning pink, so I’ll stop.)

Point is, f**k all the guys who didn’t stop and ask you for consent, or take your lead on what to do. And I’d be happy to beat any or all of them up for you, preferably all, if you’d be so kind as to hand me a list of names.

(I noticed you said “including Matt,” so please be warned that I’m feeling even more inclined than I was before to pick a fight with him, specifically.)

Anyway, let me know that you’re okay, and also let me know when you think Bridge might be ready for me to bring her a coffee after school—and you two, as well, obviously. Maybe it would help her to know she has one more person in her corner.

Love,

Gray

P.S.: Are you as excited as me about our trip? Maybe we should just ditch school this week and get to the trip early?

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Gray,

“Okay” probably isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Bridget’s current emotional state, but she’s hanging in there. I think she’s embarrassed, more than anything, that it happened the way it did. She claims she was planning on telling Tally and me both that night, though I have my doubts. But then that Taylor girl came in and… well, you know. You were there.

As for me… well, I’m a little stunned, but the worst part I think is that I should be more stunned that I am. It’s not that I knew, or even had an inkling, that I was aware of. It’s just that, now that I know, it makes all the sense in the world. And that makes me feel like a pretty garbage friend.

There were signs everywhere, Gray. She never had a boyfriend, for starters. Sure, she kissed a few guys at parties, but never more than that. How does that compute? She’s the most beautiful, bold, brave girl I know; she could have any guy she wanted, and she isn’t afraid of anything. So why did she never have anyone?

I told myself the answer was that she didn’t have time for boys. I mean, she wants to be President of the United States; what use does she have for them?

But… she’s a teenage girl. You know? We all want to connect with someone—just not all with boys. I should have known.

There were signs beyond that. Like this college party we went to at NYU a while back, for example. We were all dancing and drinking and having a good time, and this drop-dead gorgeous girl starts dancing with Bridge. Next thing I know, they’re making out in the middle of the dance floor. At the time, I just laughed—even complimented Bridge, I think, when it was over. That was the kind of thing I did back then—okay, would probably still do, if I was single—just for fun, more than anything. So I assumed it was the same way for her.

How shitty is that? 

And then there’s the way she talks, when she gets all dark and gloomy. Tally calls it “End of the World Bridget.” She always says that we don’t understand her—that no one does—that she’s not who the world thinks she is. 

Really, how could we have been so blind? It was almost like she was begging us to figure it out. 

And we were busy flirting with boys.

Love,

The Bad Friend

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Mem the Excellent Friend,

You’re being way too hard on yourself. Those comments Bridget made could have been about a million different things. Your assumption that she didn’t date because she didn’t have time for boys was entirely logical—and one that I had come to myself, by the way, given her intensity and hyper focused vibes. And the kissing of girls on dance floors? Come on, Mem—we’ve both been to enough high school and college parties to know that, like you said, it’s all too normal.

(Though I do find it sexier than I should that it’s a practice you’ve participated in. I guess that’s the pig in me talking?)

How is she doing today? Any better? Perhaps a coffee would help brighten her spirits? Texting you now, just in case the answer is yes.

I know it would brighten my spirits to see you, as it always does.

Love,

Gray

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Hey Gray,

Thanks for the coffees yesterday. Sorry that Bridget ran off like that. She seems to be doing better in general, though anytime the subject of coming out to the masses comes up, she scampers off with her tail between her legs—sort of like she did when she realized you knew.

(Technically, she’s not allowed to be mad at me for that, since you were there when Taylor came up to us. It’s not like I spilled her secret intentionally.)

Definitely keep it to yourself, though—the whole gay thing. Not that you would go blabbing, but, you know. She’s nervous.

I can hardly believe this, but Tally has actually been acting even weirder than Bridget about this whole thing. I mean, me, I’m just trying to tell Bridget I love her a thousand times a day, and to check on her, you know, the way she always did for me when things got bad. Tally, though…

It’s almost like she’s… mad at Bridget? She hasn’t actually said that, but it’s the vibe I’m getting. Can’t be right, though, can it? Tally doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body; I know it’s not a homophobic thing. Probably just my imagination.

There’s also something going on with her and Kai, I think. But she hasn’t said a word.

Anyway, thanks again for the coffees. Also—would it be okay with you if we pushed our trip back a few days? Maybe just to Monday, instead of Saturday, so I can stay with Bridge for the weekend and make sure she’s okay?

I hope you understand. I don’t think Bridge would feel good about leaving me so soon after something like this, if our roles were reversed.

Love,

Mem

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Sweet Mem,

Of course, we can push the trip back. If I’ve never told you this, I love how much you care about your friends, and would never want to change that about you. Spend the weekend with Bridget, and, you know, if you girls get bored or lonely or want company, I’m around.

As for Tally—I’m sure you’re right that her anger has nothing to do with homophobia, but I’m not sure you’re right that it’s so impossible she’s angry. After all, Bridget was her best friend, and she did lie to her for however long she’s known the truth about herself—a long time, I’m guessing.

I think everyone comes out in their own way and in their own time, of course, but I also think the people closest to them are allowed to feel hurt when they find out so late in the game—especially after all you’ve been through together.

It’s okay if you feel hurt, too, Mem. I’m glad you’re there for her with love and support, but you’re allowed to feel a bit of pain, too.

And you’re also allowed to go talk to someone about it—namely, Kai’s mom.

And I’ll keep gently reminding you of that, no matter how much you ignore me, until you do something about it.

Love,

Gray