Letters With Boys

Hello, Grayson. Is that even how people start letters? “Hello?” I have to say, I think this might be the first letter I’ve ever written. I guess that’s a pretty sad thing to admit, but, hey, it’s a pretty sad world we live in. Full disclosure—I think this is a ridiculous assignment. I can’t speak for your teachers, but I’m pretty confident that the reason the teachers at Alexandria agreed to this was to encourage us young ladies to focus more on getting to know boys before jumping into bed with them. Someone really should tell them that the senior class is too far gone already. Anyway, unpopular opinion here: I’m glad it’s your school we have to write to, and not Lancaster. You Seacoast boys might have a reputation for being scoundrels, but the Lancaster boys have actually proven themselves as scoundrels, so I’m grateful I’m not stuck writing to them. Right—the assignment. Sorry. Here goes. Name: Memphis Joan Edgerton. “Memphis” is after the city where my parents got married (they're big Elvis fans), and “Joan” is after Joan Jett (they're also big Runaways fans). Not that I blame them for either one. Age: 18, as of last Saturday. And still recovering from the celebration. (I’m not much of a party planner, but my best friends are… well, they’re a lot of things, and party planning is one of them.) Aspirations: Well, in a perfect world, Ronnie Vannucci Jr. retires from The Killers and they scoop me up as their drummer. Don’t get me wrong—Ronnie is a talented (okay, and good-looking) guy, and I wouldn’t wish any harm upon him. I’m just saying, you know, if he wanted to quit, I’d be willing to take over. Hobbies: I’m honestly not very good at anything besides drumming and maybe Legend of Zelda. I listen to a lot of music and am pretty decent at being absent, if you catch my drift. And acquiring things I’m not supposed to acquire. I try not to take any of that too far, though. Tuition ain’t cheap, and my poor parents have enough going on without me getting kicked out of these hallowed halls. Fears: This seems like an alarmingly personal bit of information to share with a total stranger. I think I might hold off on this one until I see what yours is. If you’re honest with me, maybe I’ll reconsider. Hopefully Mrs. Indigo was serious when she said she wouldn’t be reading these letters. Well, I guess that’s it for this one. Hope I didn’t ramble too much for you there, Grayson. Looking forward to reading your response. After all, it’s not your fault this assignment is ridiculous. Cheers, Memphis / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / Dear Ezra, I’ve got to say, you have a really nice name. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone named “Ezra” before in real life. I vaguely remember the teacher from Pretty Little Liars having that name, and he was definitely hot, but also indisputably creepy, given that he hooked up with his student, right? Wow—sorry. That’s not to say that you’re creepy, or hot. Or that I watch an excessive amount of crappy teen soaps. Okay, technically I do, but it’s really more that I’m subjected to them against my will thanks to my best friend, Bridget. (Bridget isn’t my only best friend. I have another one, too—Memphis. But she doesn’t subject me to teen soaps—just excessive amounts of rock and alternative music.) Anyway, hopefully you’ll find that you lucked out, getting me for a pen pal. I’m a pretty easygoing person—“low maintenance,” Memphis calls me. We can take this thing as seriously or not seriously as you want to. I mean, we do have to keep exchanging the letters all year, according to Mrs. Indigo, but since she isn’t going to read them, we can keep them short, if you like. For now, I’ll start with the basics. Name: Talliope Anne Moore. I know, it’s hideous. For the love of God, call me Tally—everyone does. Age: 17. I turn 18 on Halloween. It may sound fun, having a birthday on Halloween, but… aw, hell. It is fun. Aspirations: Technically, my dream is to play professional volleyball. Unfortunately, this is an even less realistic dream than most sports-related goals, since, basically, our country doesn’t really care about volleyball and I’m way too behind for the Olympics. So, with that being said, I plan on going to law school. Like most everyone else around here. Hobbies: Besides the volleyball, which I’ve already mentioned, I’m also fairly good at soccer, football (though it’s near impossible to find people to play it with me, given that I go to an all-girls school), and tennis. And I like to run, though I’m not particularly fast. Fears: Well, it might be hard to tell from this letter, since it’s a lot easier to write to a stranger than actually talk to one, but I’m an introvert. So, basically, one of my biggest fears is having to talk to strangers—or, really, anyone who isn’t in my immediate circle. That, and anyone harming my friends. It’s happened before, and in some ways I think it hurt me even more than it hurt them. Anyway, I think that’s it for now. Looking forward to hearing your response. Thanks, Tally / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / Kai, I’ll be frank—I’m a busy girl. I’m class president, captain of the debate team, and involved in a handful of other clubs and teams I won’t bore you with. Suffice it to say, I’m going to have to keep this short. Something tells me your heart won’t be broken. We all know what you Seacoast boys think of us Alexandria girls, after all. Name: Bridget Steinfeld Age: 17 Aspirations: President of the United States. Hopefully not the first female one, but at the rate we’re going, it’s looking likely. Hobbies: I don’t really have time for hobbies. Just like I don’t have time to be writing this letter. Fears: Failure. Mrs. Indigo says we’re going to have to keep this up all year, so I’ll do my part, but I’ll keep it brief. You’re more than welcome to do the same. Warmly, Bridget Steinfeld