Love Letters Page #2

how things are in Glocca Morra?

It's here where they're miserable.

Come save me, Andy.

Yes!

Harwood!

Let's go, let's go!

At least write...

...just so I can hear a boy's voice...

...even on paper.

I got shipped off too.

Got a scholarship to this fancy

boys' boarding school.

My father thinks it's time

I was with all boys.

And my mother thinks

I'm a diamond in the rough.

I'll write as soon as I'm smoother.

Dear diamond, don't let that school

smooth you out too much.

I like the rough part.

Don't you think boarding school's

a crock?

-No.

-I do. I think it's the pits.

-Except for this art course I'm taking.

-You still like to draw?

And paint and sculpt.

My teacher thinks I have talent.

Has she seen your masterpiece:

Kangaroo Jumping Over

a Glass of Orange Juice?

She took me to her studio

in town...

...where we did life drawings

of her lover in just a jockstrap.

Would you ever pose for me

in a jockstrap?

Who needs a jockstrap?

Are you boasting or complaining?

-Now I know.

-Very funny.

Sorry to hear about your mother,

by the way.

About divorcing Hooper McFail?

I never liked him anyway.

He was a pest and a pill

and tried to paw me all the time.

-That son of a beechnut tree.

-It's okay.

-I'm going to a psychiatrist now.

-I went to one once.

I talked about you.

It's almost New Year's.

How about making it official?

Let's go steady.

Not on your life.

Why not?

Mom said you should meet

as many boys as you can...

...so you don't make a mistake

when you marry.

Okay, everybody,

time to change partners.

Jeez, Andy, you've

hardly noticed me tonight.

No, Gretchen, I have. Really.

You stand out in a crowd.

Subtle as a truck.

Look who's talking.

Blanche DuBois over there.

Stay away from that guy.

He's bad news.

Who are you, my guardian?

I see why your mom put you

in boarding school.

Oh, yes? Well, I'm not going back.

I'm going to California instead.

-California?

-My father's sent for me.

Melissa.

Try this on for size.

Don't mind if I do.

Nine, eight, seven, six...

...five, four, three, two...

...one. Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, Andy!

Ditto, Gretchen.

-Any port in a storm.

-Yeah, yeah.

-I'm sore at you.

-Oh, come on.

Say hello to Granny and goodbye

to me. I'm on my way to the airport.

I'll say hello to Granny.

Hello, Mrs. Pommeroy.

-We'll miss her, won't we, Andrew?

-Depends on how she behaves.

I want you to know

I hate that Bob Bartram.

I hated him even

when I necked with him.

He's telling everyone in town

he French-kissed you...

-...and touched both your breasts.

-That's a lie.

tell everyone right back that he

should be strung up by his testicles.

How come you kissed him, then,

and not me?

You were kissing Gretchen.

-Only after I saw--

-Andy, stop.

With us, it's different. You know that.

You're more like a friend to me.

Or a brother maybe.

Thanks a bunch.

No, I mean it. Maybe if we

didn't know each other so well...

...or hadn't written so many letters,

we could--

Melissa, darling.

You'll be late for your plane.

Write me in California?

I count on you, Andy.

Sometimes I think I'd go stark raving

mad if I didn't have you to hold on to.

-You exaggerate....

-Everything.

-Not this time....

-I swear.

Write me about California.

How's your second family?

Did you get my letters? I checked

with your mom, and I had the address.

How come you haven't answered me

in over six months?

Back at school now.

Hope everything's okay with you.

Did you get my letters

in California...

...or do you have a wicked stepmother

who confiscates them?

I don't want to talk about California.

Ever.

I thought I had two families.

Now I know I don't really have any.

You're very lucky, Andy.

You don't know it, but you are.

Back at school, but not for long.

Caught nipping gin in the woods

with Bubbles Harramin.

Had to pack my trunk by tonight

and be out by tomorrow.

Mummy's pulling strings

all over the eastern seaboard...

...for another school.

My art teacher thinks I should go

to Italy and study art.

What do you think?

To answer your question

about Italy...

...I think you're too young to go.

I think you should go to another

school, graduate, go to college...

...then afterward, when you're

more mature, you could go to Italy.

That's my advice, for what it's worth,

which is probably not much.

Here I am at Anna Walker's Academy

for Young Lesbians.

Help! Let me out of here!

Plus a change,

plus c'est le same crap.

Are you coming straight home

in June?

I want to see you.

Or are you still in love

with Gretchen?

For your information, I'm not taking

Gretchen Lascelles out anymore.

My parents don't Iike her.

I guess her big chest

is disturbing to older people.

-I hope to see you in June, then.

-I can't come home in June. Sorry.

I need to earn money,

so I got a job...

...as a counselor at a camp

for underprivileged kids.

I'll have to demonstrate social

responsibility till August 1 7th.

I'll write you, though,

and I hope you'll write me.

I don't want to write letters.

I really don't. I want to see you.

You need more confidence

in your letter-writing ability.

Will you stop writing about writing

and come home...

...to the Campbells' sports party

before you go to the stupid camp?!

Please!

I behave better when you're around.

In person.

Please!

Dear Andy, just thought you should

know what Melissa Gardner...

...your one and true love,

did at the Campbells' sports party.

She wore a bright-red bikini bathing

suit and drank four gin and tonics...

...and ran around goosing people

and pushing them into the pool.

She put a tennis ball in her

cleavage and dared boys to take it out.

Now I hear she's just sitting around

painting pictures...

...while the rest of us work for a living.

Just thought you should know.

Your former friend,

Gretchen Lascelles.

Don't you want the respect

of other women?

I'm sorry to say this...

...but what I heard made me

slightly disgusted, frankly.

I sent you a letter

from New Hampshire.

Did you receive it?

Are you sore at me?

I'll bet you're sore at me.

I'm sorry.

I apologize. I'm a stuffy bastard

sometimes, aren't I?

Oh, the hell with you, then.

Big, tough Andy

using four-letter words like "hell."

-Screw you!

-Don't you wish you could.

Everyone else seems to be.

Dear Andrew Makepeace Ladd,

the turd:

Don't believe everything you read

in the papers.

I just want you to know

you hurt me very much.

I just want you to know that.

So let's just leave each other alone

for a while, all right?

All right.

My mother wrote

that your grandmother had died.

Please accept

my deepest sympathies.

Thank you for your note

about my grandmother.

I loved her a lot.

Even though she could be

a little boring.

Congratulations

on getting into Briarcliffe.

I hear it's a great college.

Thanks for your letter about Briarcliffe.

It's not great, and you know it.

Thanks for your letter about Briarcliffe.

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