Letters With Boys

Bridget and Kai, Week 2 - September

Hello Kai,

Thank you for everything you said in your last letter. You’re right on both accounts—I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and I can use someone to talk to besides Mem and Tally. And I find it incredibly refreshing that you’re offering all this up.

(Though I feel the need to ask—are you perhaps gay? Because otherwise I fear that my personality might be so awful that it’s just an immediate turnoff.)

My friends and I went to New York City this past weekend. Bridget’s older brother goes to NYU, and while his apartment isn’t exactly designed to host four people, we made it work. It was… fun. At least, it should have been.

That’s the thing, Kai—I think I’ve almost forgotten how to have fun.

All I could think about all weekend was grades and repercussions. How would I do on Monday’s history test if I didn’t spend the weekend studying? (Terrible, for the record.) And what would the repercussions be for all the shenanigans we got into? (None, as usual.)

It’s not that I fear my parents catching me in the act, really. They won’t—they never do. They’re not even usually in Granger; they mostly travel for work. And if they are in Granger, they’re still busy with conventions and meetings and whatever else is far more exciting than focusing on their silly daughter.

I’m an only child, if you were wondering—though not by choice. They just couldn’t really manage to make any more babies after me. They were sour about it—especially my dad. He wanted a boy, of course, being the sexist pig that he is.

I think that’s why their expectations for me are so high—I’m expected to fill every, little dream they ever had for their children, despite being only one person.

Anyway, that’s about it, I guess. Thanks for giving me the heads-up about this Gray guy hunting around for photos of Mem. Seems lame, but not altogether alarming. I just hope he ends up being a decent guy. Mem’s had more than her share of assholes in the past.

Later,

Bridget

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Hi Bridget,

I must say, your parents sound like real assholes. I doubt you actually need to hear this, but it’s not your fault they couldn’t have kids after you, and it’s not your job to fill all those roles they hoped other kids would fill.

I’m also sorry you weren’t able to have fun in the city. I’ve only been a handful of times myself, and I had a great time. My family are real suckers for the tourist attractions, though, which makes it pretty easy for us to have a good time. Something tells me your family isn’t quite that way.

I’m an only child, too, interestingly enough. My mom always wanted a big family, but when she saw how expensive the cost of living was here, she decided the responsible thing would be to stop at one child and make sure he (I) wanted for nothing.

Like I’ve said before, sometimes I feel the pressure, too—for that reason, I think, among others. But not like you do. I’m really sorry, Bridget. That’s not fair.

Maybe you could tell me about your weekend in detail? Maybe you had fun without even realizing it? That happens to me sometimes. I’ll go to a party, think it was boring or uneventful, and then hear everyone else going on about how great it was for weeks.

Maybe neither of us gets “fun.”

Oh, and no—I’m not gay. And your personality is not a turn-off. (Not after your first letter, anyway.) I’m just not the type of guy to use this whole pen pal situation to my s****l advantage. Plus, you’re not looking for a boyfriend, which means you would like me to be just a friend, which means I will be.

We have a big soccer game tomorrow. Our team isn’t the greatest, but I’m pretty damn good. (You’ll find, hopefully, that the only thing I ever brag about is soccer. But I really am good.) Wish me luck, would you?

Kai

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Kai,

I hope you don’t mind that I brought my friends to your game yesterday. We certainly got surprised looks from a lot of the boys (I guess not many chicks come to these things), but I enjoyed meeting you.

It was Mem’s idea to go—most bad ideas generally are. She could tell I was feeling down in the dumps, and said we should do something different—something we’ve never done before. I don’t know why, exactly, but the thought of your game just sort of slipped out. Then Tally, of course, being a sports fanatic, was all, “Let’s do it!”

I don’t want to sound harsh here, and I probably don’t need to say this at all, but I hope you won’t get the wrong idea about me, having done that. I’m not “after you,” or whatever, just because I came. You’re a perfectly attractive guy, but like I said before—boyfriend-seeking is the last thing on my mind these days.

I guess I just wanted to show you that I support you.

You kicked ass, by the way. You were right to brag.

As far as your question about my weekend and whether fun might have been had that I missed… well, you’re probably right. I suppose, technically, we did have fun. We did all the things that teenagers are supposed to find fun, anyway. We went to clubs. We went to college parties. We did drugs.

(Is it okay that I just admitted that? You don’t really strike me as the drug-doing type, but you also don’t strike me as judgmental, so hopefully it’s fine.)

Mem went for the X. That’s how she is—all or nothing. I just did a bit of molly—more my speed. (Ha! Get it?)

Anyway, there isn’t too much more than that to report. I didn’t hook up with anyone. I don’t really do that, nor does Tally. Mem… well, that’s a more complicated one. But we keep a close eye on her, and this particular weekend, we were able to keep her from making any terrible mistakes. Narrowly.

This is where Tally and Mem would get all feminist on me and say that hooking up with random strangers isn’t necessarily “a mistake,” or “slutty.” I get that I’m supposed to agree with them, though I’d be lying if I said I totally did.

I have learned, though, that people make the choices they make for a reason—and that it typically isn’t just to “get laid.” At least, not when women do it.

Anyway, hope you’re still talking to me after my little guest appearance at your school.

Fondly,

Bridget

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Bridget,

You kidding? It was awesome that you came out. Our games don’t typically bring in spectators, and the fact that three pretty girls were there to see me play pretty much made me their hero. Not to mention, it’s probably the only reason we won.

Your friends seem great. The psychiatrist’s son in me (my mom’s a psychiatrist, if I didn’t mention that already) thinks Memphis’ weird (though admittedly funny) sense of humor might be a bit of a defense mechanism, though I’m not sure for what. You probably already knew that, of course, or maybe you’ll tell me I’m way off base, which is possible. And I think Tally knows more about soccer than any of the girls on our team—and she’s a volleyball player? Crazy.

She’s very cute—Tally, I mean. But you probably already know that, too.

As far as your shenanigans go this past weekend—I think, if you asked any of my classmates, they’d say that, yes, you did have fun.

But I’m not getting the vibe that any of that partying and drug-doing constitutes fun for you, Bridget. And I’m not sure that means you don’t know what “fun” is.

If you had fun at the game, well, maybe that just means we’ll need to hang out again sometime.

Kai