Millicent.
Like... I don’t even know what to say to you. Or why I am even writing you this email. It’s clear to me now that I can’t trust a single word that comes out of your mouth. You told me you had no interest in William. You said it was “crazy” that I would ever be jealous of you two hanging out together. You decided to take Art History as an elective because you wanted “to be cultural.” Well I guess by “cultural” you meant sucking face with my boyfriend every Tuesday and Thursday after fifth period?
I feel like such an idiot rn. Like all those times I privately freaked out to myself over all the Instagram faves, all the times I bumped into you two in the library when you were “studying” together and got suspicious... I guess I was just being fucking crazy, right?
I have been nothing but a good friend to you. First year when your roommate thought she was too good to even talk to you and no one else wanted to room w you sophomore year... who came to your rescue? Me. I could have been friends with a lot of different people, Milly. I could have basically roomed with whoever I wanted. But I decided to room with you both (a) out of the goodness of my heart and (b) because I really thought I could help you. I thought you had so much potential. Now I realize you did have potential... as a backstabbing cunt.
Basically, not all the perfumes of Arabia could sweeten this situation. I honestly consider both you and William to have cheated on me. And honestly I’m more offended by your dishonesty and abuse of me than his. William is an idiot and you can have him. Like seriously good luck to all the girls at Harvard who are going to go through this shit next year and for three years after that. And good luck to you at Brown... I hear they are really into the slut thing there, it’s like political or something, which will be great for you because you always like to put some sort of veneer on your misdeeds.
I have always had your back. Remember prefrosh weekend at Brown when you wanted to fuck that guy from the golf team and so I lied for you to Mr. Pemberton and said that you were visiting with your aunt and uncle in Providence? All so you could get some fucking peen. When we went on the class trip to Old Sturbridge Village and you hooked up with that historical reenactor in the bathroom at Dunkin’ Donuts? Do you know what I could have done with that information Millicent? But I did nothing with it. What was I even thinking? Frankly I indulged your sexual promiscuity with aplomb. But no more... because now I see how your ways are hurting people. Because they are hurting me.
And let’s not even say all the times I have been your shoulder to cry on every time you have had a meltdown over your weight. Over your nose. Who has been there to tell you how pretty you are and how you are like basically better looking than Gigi fucking Hadid? Me. But whose shoulder do I have to cry on Millicent? That’s right. No one’s.
I hope you and William are very happy together. Honestly. I don’t want to hear from you when he stops texting you in two days. I don’t want to see you shed a fucking tear when he hooks up w someone else during Senior Week. Honestly, in a way, thank you for helping me realize this before Senior Week so I can have FUN and maybe indulge some of MY reckless fantasies.
I don’t want you borrowing my white cashmere cable-knit anymore. I don’t want you standing on my side of the room for better fucking AT&T reception. Seriously how could you not have gotten fucking Sprint by now. It’s the only provider that gets decent service in Wallingford and everyone has known that since the first day we arrived on campus.
Yet another example of you just relying on me for everything. I’m done Millicent. I’m done. Good luck in The Crucible... if only Arthur Miller were alive. I think he would find your portrayal of Elizabeth Proctor to be quite ironic.
Em
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Emily??
I understand why you are upset. What William and I did was shitty and I definitely crossed a line. I’m not disputing that. But what I do dispute is you setting yourself up as this selfless martyr who has done nothing but angelic good deeds and repeatedly had me walk all over you. Quite frankly that is bullshit and you know it.
Nick Brown. George Dennis. Charlie Punch. Do any of these names ring a bell? Hmmm... let’s play the tape back. Nick is on the tennis team with me freshman year... who suddenly decides she has a huge crush on him and that she wants to sit w me in the caf so when he comes over to say hi to ME she can magically be there? EMILY. George is in Modern American Lit w me. Who suddenly fucking LOVES The Great Gatsby despite telling me the only good thing about it is the clothes?? YOU EMILY. Who KNEW I had a crush on Charlie Punch and then I find a fucking condom in our trash barrel and you fucking giggle and say “omg me and Charlie Punch hooked up!” YOU EMILY. YOU!!
Face it... you are a major fucking narcissist. I admit you do have an appeal to guys. I admire it and I envy it. But guys have been interested in me too Emily... and you have always been there to swoop in and charm them right away from me. So when William all of a sudden made overtures... was I weak? Yes. Did I fall for his moves? Yes. OK, so I was drunk off peach schnapps after the tennis finals. I made a mistake. And I told you about it instantly. And then you lied and said you found out about it on his iMessages days earlier, just because it would be so much more dramatic. Dramatic overacting, just like you always. Like in Our Town. Note to fucking Emily... Emily Webb doesn’t do jazz hands. Emily Webb doesn’t have a pseudo-British accent. It takes place in New fucking Hampshire... it’s a stripped-down play, not fucking Cabaret. And yet you thought you were SO good in it because you are delusional. And just as you say that you have constantly guarded my feelings, I have indulged all of THIS because I thought you were really my friend. Like maybe you had a blind spot w guys but you were there for me.
But now I realize that this was all contingent on me always being second fiddle. Like as long as you were the mentor, as long as you were the one who was the star and I was your understudy. Like maybe I was someone who was allowed to go off to a different college and flourish so you could take credit? Or would that not have been OK either? If I came to Wellesley next year to visit would you be a bitch to me just because I have a boyfriend or am getting attention from guys? While you have none? Let’s face it: that’s what a lot of this is about. You are starting to regret your decision to go to an all-girls school. I get it. So fucking tough it out and transfer. Go to Harvard and be with William. Neither one of us ever said anything but good things about you.
But I am tired of being in your shadow. I am tired of trying to pretend things are still the way they were back when we were first roommates. You have been increasingly cold to me ever since I started getting hot after going on Proactiv and being depressed last year and losing a shit ton of weight. And joining intramural softball and getting tan. Now you feel the heat. All of a sudden you DON’T remember telling me drunk behind the library on Homecoming weekend that you were thinking of breaking up w William so you could “have fun” for the rest of senior year. Well congrats Emily... you’re getting exactly what you always wanted. You get to have your cake and eat it too. Marie Fucking Antoinette. You loved to listen to the soundtrack to that movie. So why don’t you listen to it while you fuck your brains out for the rest of the semester and think about how great you are and everyone else is always fucking you over.
MillIE
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You. are. insane. I never did “jazz hands” in Our Town. You are calling ME delusional?? I believe... and I quote... The News called it a “splendid” performance. And I have never pretended like I am your savior. I have never painted myself as a saint. Like do I think I do a lot for other people? Obviously. I think Clothes for Crimea proved that. All I was fucking saying is that I have been a good friend and that you haven’t. And that is true.
And this nonsense about George and Nick and Charlie... sorry friend but none of them ever had any interest in you. Except maybe now YES as you have gotten sluttier. And maybe hotter. But I think when someone is “taking a shower” and listens to Iggy Azalia (sp?) on full blast for 45 minutes well, sorry, but I have a hard time believing they are keeping their lunch down.
You know what... I don’t even know what I am doing arguing w you. Logic has never been your strong suit. I know that because I did ALL of your fucking Logic homework last year.
I have to go to religion now but we are NOT DONE.
Em
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EARTH TO EMILY, SAVIOR OF CRIMEA!!!!
CRIMEA DOESN’T NEED YOUR FUCKING OLD GYM CLOTHES. THEY GOT INVADED BY RUSSIA THEY’RE NOT SUDDENLY EXPERIENCING A DEARTH OF TRACK SHORTS!!
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OK MillIE honestly mock me for caring... nothing u do surprises me any more. But have you seen all of the thank-you cards I have taped around my vanity?? It wasn’t gym shorts Millie... it was nice stuff. Like J.Crew and Ralph and even Lilly. But then again you wouldn’t know about stuff like that because you dress like a yoga instructor that got laid off and hasn’t yet realized that Lulu alone does not a wardrobe make. When have you even gone to the gym anyway? Do you wear that shit just because it’s stretchy? Hunger Banquet. Blood drive. Showing Dr. Jill Biden around campus sophomore year. All things I have done for other people.
Tell me one thing you have done for other people Mill. One thing. Besides maybe acted as a cum dumpster for the entire hockey team first year until I showed you how to make guys work for it and treat you w respect. You do nothing for other people. You take and take and take and give NOTHING back. William is the last thing you are taking from me… one more of my hand-me-downs you are lucky to have. Enjoy it.
Em
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I never said u never do anything for anyone else. I just said that its always at the end of the day about YOU. Millicent
...side note... apparently Ainsley Hunter has been hooking up w Oliver (yes your ex Oliver) and has been talking MAJ shit about you. Just thought you should know.
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WHAT!! omg what is she saying about me??
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Meet me after physics and ill tell you... its like too mean to type
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I’m skipping today. I need to paint my nails before senior class picture. Wanna meet me? I have like 8 different shades I got at Sephora. Daddy is not gonna love seeing that on the Amex... might as well enjoy it before I get that call! :P
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Totes! See you in 20. xx
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Millicent and Emily rectified their friendship over the second coat of nail polish (Millie, turquoise; Emily, coral blue). Now in their first year of college, the two girls speak at least twice a week, so that Millie can let Em know how big of a slut Ainsley Hunter is being at Brown.
Millicent has traveled to Cambridge to hook up with William four times this semester and is currently working on her Harvard transfer application. ♦