For his junior year in high school, Alfred must start being pen pals with someone in English class. Ms. Tupil gives Alfred the email address for one Arthur Kirkland, a Briton with a bit of a snappy nature.

September 27th

Dear Pen Pal,

Hiya! I'm Alfred F. Jones! I think we're going to be the best of friends! Ms. Tulip (awesome name, right?), my English teacher, said that you live in England. How cool is that?

I'm gonna get to the good part of the email. You get to learn about me! I'm sixteen, and I'm from Texas! My favorite sport is football, but I'll play anything! I love hamburgers, and that's the easy way to my heart! My mom and my dad split up when I was ten, but that's okay, cause I have a really cool step- dad!

I think that's all I'm gonna tell you for now, because I really want to get to know you before I start spilling my guts onto the page, okay? Okay!

Your Pen Pal,

Alfred F. Jones

A.K.A. Your hero!

September 28th

Dear Alfred,

Hello, it's nice to meet you Alfred. I'm Arthur Kirkland. Yes, I do live in England, and I do suppose you could say that it's 'cool,' though I never did understand the American use of that word. It's highly inappropriate in instances such as that.

I suppose I should add some things about me. I'm sixteen as well, and I'm from London, England. I strongly dislike sports, or anything to do with sports, except cricket. I like tea, just like your silly stereotyping of us Britons. My parents are still together. Nothing special there.

I see you fit the bill for the stereotype of Americans; burgers, loud, strange. I suppose I may find you entertaining, but I fail to see any educational value in me talking to someone like you. Where's it going to get me grade-wise?

Your Pen pal,

Arthur Kirkland

P.S. You're not my hero…

September 29th

Dear Arthur,

WHOADUDETHAT'SSOAWESOME. You're really smart. I didn't get half of what you said. But that's okay, cause I really don't care!

What's London like? Is it fun? And what' s cricket? Is it a game with crickets? Cause that sounds gross and weird. Not to sound mean or anything! I bet you're a cool dude!

You should come here to the States sometime, and we can meet up and be friends! How cool would that be? I would totally love that!

By the way, yes. I am your hero. I'm everyone's hero! I'm gonna save the world one day!

Your Pen Pal,

Alfred F. Jones

September 30th

Dear Alfred,

I hardly find the capitals necessary. London's quite fun. Cricket's sort of like the American game of baseball, only British style.

My mum was talking about going to America for a trip once. I suppose it would be okay if…

June 6th

I looked around the empty bus station, waiting patiently for Arthur to show up. Well, not patiently. I was pacing, I was taping my shoe patiently, everything. I couldn't just sit there and do nothing! I was about to meet Arthur!

"Are you going to stand there and act like that the entire time, you bloody twit?" A voice said behind me. The British accent told me all I needed to know.

"Arthur!" I yelled, running, and pulled him into a huge bear hug.

"Can't…" Arthur gasped. "C-Can't breathe Alf-Alfred!"

"Oh! Sorry!" I dropped him, and realized I was a little taller than him. "Oh hey, you're shorter than I imagined."

His cheeks lit up a little pink, likely because I just poked fun at his height. "I-I'm not short!"

"Oh I'm just kidding!" I punched his arm lightly, and then grabbed the bag at his feet. "Come on! Mom's waiting!"

I led him to my car, though he practically had to run to catch up with me, and we both got in the backseat. My mom and step-dad sat in the front seats.

"This is my mom and my step dad. Guys, this is Arthur!" I said excitedly, entirely at ease. Arthur however, was blushing again.

"N-nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Jones." Arthur stuttered, and I felt bad for the guy. After all, he came to a brand new country, without any parents, and he was stuck with my lame parents and the heroic me? Granted, being with the heroic me was pretty awesome, but still, my lame—yet somehow still awesome—parents kind of bummed stuff out!

"Let's get home!" I said, suddenly remembering something. "I want to show Arthur where I live!"

"I'm sure Arthur wants to get something to eat." My mom laughed quietly at my excitement. "Are you hungry Arthur?"

"Very." Arthur said, and I felt my stomach give a huge roar, telling me it was hungry too.

"I want burgers!" I declared, earning a laugh from everyone in the car. My face fell. "What?"

"You Americans and your burgers," Arthur explained, wiping away an imaginary tear from laughing, "give me quite a laugh."

"Not all of us are as burger obsessed as Alfie." My mom said.

"Mooooooom!" I whined when she used the nickname that she insisted she call me, no matter how much I hated it. What hero wants to be called Alfie?

"Oh hush." My mom pulled away from the curb. "Let's go get food."

"Yes, let's." Arthur replied, leaning back in his seat.

I looked out the window, trying to figure out where we were going, watching scenery flash by, and wondered if Arthur was going to like America.

I really hoped he would, and hoped he would like me too. I bet he will!

More chapters to come soon! ;3