Letters With Boys

Memphis and Gray, Week 3 - September

Lovely Mem,

Is it okay if I call you Mem? You’re signing your letters as Mem now, so I think it’s okay.

I can’t say I’ve seen or read Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings ten times, though I can say I’m impressed that you have. I’m certainly a fan. I wish we could be teenagers in those days—when those were the midnight showings they all caught at the theater, instead of Marvel Movie Number 757.

What school does your brother Todd go to? If your family moved here for it, it must be a good one, right? Are you close with him?

How was your weekend? Mine was pretty uneventful. I tried going on a date with a girl from Pembroke, but it didn’t go well. She pretty much just talked about Taylor Swift the whole time. I won’t deny that Tay Tay is a talented songwriter and a brilliant businesswoman, but I really don’t want to talk about her for more than about five minutes out of every year.

I’d much rather talk about The Pixies. Excuse me, Pixies.

By the way, I’m hearing you showed up at our soccer game last week? Why didn’t you tell me you were going? School sporting events aren’t exactly my scene, but if it meant getting to see you, I would happily have made an exception to that rule.

I tried asking Kai what he’s doing that I’m not—you know, to get his pen pal to actually meet up with him. He told me he didn’t look her up on social and he doesn’t hit on her. Obviously, both those ships have sailed with me and you. I wish I could go back and change my strategy, but I’m not sure I could ever not flirt with you, Mem, and not just because I’ve seen what you look like. I find you cooler and cooler with each letter.

So, what do I do to get you to meet me?

Yours,

Gray

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Hey Gray,

I’m sorry that your date didn’t go well. I agree that T-Swift is a genius in her own right. I also think her music speaks to a lot of girls who don’t have the taste for the kind of music that I do. Where I find guidance in the wisdom of Morissey, they find it in her. And there’s something to be said for that.

Todd goes to the Granger Center for Autism. We aren’t really "close." I’d like to be, but it’s not easy with him. My parents have a lot of faith in this school to help him connect and express himself better, but so far, that hasn’t really happened.

My weekend didn’t go particularly well, either. I went to a Seacoast party and rolled pretty hard for the second weekend in a row. I was better behaved than the weekend before, though, when I went clubbing in NYC and ended up in a bathroom with some poi-spinning loser.

I really just wanted to talk to him, silly as that might sound, and the bathroom was quieter than the dance floor. I get really talkative on X—open up to people more than I usually do. That’s probably why I just told you about Todd, honestly. And about all this. I’m still coming down from the high.

I’m really going to feel like garbage tomorrow.

Anyway, turned out he didn’t just want to talk to me, but thankfully Bridget and Tally broke it up before anything happened. They’re pretty good at that sort of thing. Usually.

Nothing like that happened at the Seacoast party—at least, not with me. I think you were right about your buddy Ezra—I get slimy vibes from him. He was after Tally pretty hard, and managed to get his tongue down her throat before we pulled him off her and told him she wasn’t interested.

I can only hope we were right about that. Tally doesn’t really open up about boys with us; it’s hard to tell what she’s really thinking.

Anyway, we went back to Bridget’s after that and listened to her dad’s copy of Dark Side of the Moon on vinyl and they stayed up with me until I came down enough to fall asleep. They always have my back, those two. I’m lucky to have them.

Mem

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Mem,

Holy s**t.

For the record, I love ecstasy. (In small doses, of course, and spread out over at least a few months, so as not to fry my brain. I’m a little worried about your brain now, truth be told. Twice in one week?) I love Morrisey, too. I think you might be my dream girl, Mem. Which is why I had a hard time reading about your little bathroom tryst with Mr. Poi.

Did you tell me about him because I told you about my date? If so, I swear not to tell you about another date for as long as I live. I really was only trying to see if you were jealous. Which, by the way, I haven’t quite deduced. Were you?

I certainly am. Who was this poi-spinning asshole, anyway? Did he push you to do something you weren’t comfortable with? Everyone knows people get talkative when they roll; if that’s all you wanted to do, he should have respected that.

Do I need to beat someone up for you, Mem? Because I will. Gladly.

You tore my heart out for a whole, other reason when you told me about your brother. That can’t be easy. How old is he? How bad is his autism? It’s on a spectrum, right?

And this Seacoast party? That was Ezra’s party—the closest thing to a frat party you can find in high school. You couldn’t catch me dead at a party like that. (Okay, again, if you had told me you were going, I probably would have gone. But it would have been a major sacrifice.) I heard some hot Alexandria girls came, but I had no idea it was you three.

You really should tell your friend Tally to be careful. You’re right to sense that Ezra’s slimy. Whatever he promises her, it won’t be true. He’s more the wham, bam, thank you, ma’am type. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the hide-cameras-in-the-bedroom type.

Which, for the record, I am not.

I hope your come-down isn’t too rough. I’m enclosing a little baggie with my supplement cocktail for come-downs. I know you’re probably not going to take them, since it’s pretty weird to take drugs from a stranger not knowing what they might be, but I assure you it’s just amino acids, magnesium, ginseng, and antioxidants.

Hope it helps.

Gray

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Gray,

Thanks for the meds. You were correct in your assumption that I would not take drugs that were sent to me by a stranger, but I did go to the health food store and put together a similar cocktail for myself based on your recipe, and it seems to have helped marginally, so thank you.

In all honesty, I don’t feel all that different than I usually do. I get depressed a good bit these days. I’m only telling you this to ensure you that I’m not your dream girl. Dream girls don’t get depressed.

I told you about the poi boy/bathroom thing for similar reasons—not to make you jealous, but to assure you that I shouldn’t be the subject of your, or anyone’s, affections. Apparently that backfired, though I’m still not exactly sure how.

Todd is 14. He’s a level 2, which is worse than high-functioning but not quite “severe.” If you ask me, though, that was an optimistic assessment. It’s pretty f*****g severe.

I shouldn’t have told you about him. It was inappropriate and I apologize.

Memphis

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Mem,

Please don’t say that. It wasn’t inappropriate, and I don’t want you to think you shouldn’t have told me. I want you to think you can tell me anything. Even that you are feeling depressed. Even though it makes me sad that you are sad.

FYI, there is no rule that says dream girls don’t get depressed. I checked the handbook.

Would it help if I shared more with you? For example, I have a little sister (technically half-sister) named Lizzy. She’s 13. She’s a good kid, which is really saying something when you have shitty parents like ours. She’s in Manhattan with them—well, with my mom, anyway, who’s on husband number four. Lizzy’s dad was number three. Mine was number one.

I don’t think Lizzy likes me half as much as I like her. I try to keep it that way, you know? I don’t want her thinking of me as any sort of role model, because she should aspire to be so much more than I ever could.

It’s hard, though, because I don’t want her to think I’m a dead beat who doesn’t care about her, like our fathers are. (I mean, technically they’re rich assholes, not dead beats, but as good as.) So it’s kind of like being between a rock and a hard place.

I don’t really like talking about that stuff, so I hope you get why I did.

Can we please meet up? You can bring your friends if it makes you more comfortable. It doesn’t have to be a date. I’d just really like to talk to you in person.

Gray

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Gray,

We’re going to The Velvet Room tomorrow night. You can come have a drink with us if you’d like.

If you can get in.

Mem