Our Book Bound By Love

Chapter 1: First Words


Today, I was not in my usual muddy sneakers, worn jeans and hoodie. Instead I was wearing a new polo shirt and a new decent pair of jeans. My sneakers were newly cleaned and my hair was neatly combed.

Earlier in the day my mom asked me to come over to my grandparents' house with her. She bought me the new shirt and jeans because she wanted me to look grown-up and presentable to her folks, complaining that I looked pitiful in my usual outfit.

It was a Sunday, and it was a good, sunny day. Our visit to my grandparents was actually fun. Grandma had baked my favorite cookies and we all ate and chatted while sitting in the backyard. Grandma has always kept the garden beautiful and well-trimmed, and the flowers were always blooming.

Apart from the slight awkwardness of having to kiss grandparents, Mom's chatter about my growth spurts, and Grandpa asking if I already have a girlfriend, it had been a good time for me. Of course, the attention was always focused on me, but I didn't mind because these were people who care about me. It was a good distraction from the everyday nightmare called high school.

When Mom and Grandma went into the kitchen to clean up the dishes, Grandpa and I had a private talk.

"So, Alfred. You're a freshman now, huh? How's high school? Anything you want to share to me?"

I thought about lying and telling him that it was awesome and I had lots of friends, but I figured he would know if I was faking a smile. So the truth it is.

"I hate it, Gramps. It sucks."

He patted my shoulder and gave an encouraging smile. "Ah, don't worry, Alfred. It's part of growing up. I know many people in high school are total jerks, but I know you'll survive it. You just stick with the right people and avoid the bad ones. I should know, because I went through it too."

"It's not that easy, you know. It's so much more complicated."

"I know it is, Alfred. It's not easy, but just remember to stay true to who you are. I might be making it sound easy, but put that in mind always. When I was young, I was just like you. I also wanted to be liked by people, but some of them were mean and told me that I was a loser and a weakling. I was miserable for a long time. But I never fought back with violence. I fought back with kindness."

"But… how do you fight back with kindness?" I scratched my head, confused.

"Well, if people are mean to you, you don't be mean to them. Smile at them, be nice to them. Fire when fought with fire creates more fire. You wouldn't want that."

I was still confused but I just agreed with him, thinking that I might eventually understand it. I told him about how the other boys don't want me to join them in a soccer game and how the girls would freak out if I started approaching them. The only few friends I have were in the same position as me, and we were called the geek club and were the butt of all jokes.

"I just want to be a hero, Gramps. I read about superheroes because I want to be like them. I want to be accepted by everyone and be everyone's friend. But some people just call me a weird geek and make fun of me."

"Oh, I know you will be a hero, Alfred. Though it's not the same kind of superheroes in your comic books. I know you're a hero to your mom because you're such a good son. You're a hero to your friends, to me and your grandma because you make us happy. And I know that one day, there will be someone whom you will be the hero of their life. Someone you will love and protect unconditionally. Just always be a good young man, always be nice to people, even if they aren't nice to you, and that is already such a heroic thing you can do."

In my grandpa's eyes I saw my reflection. A scared boy. Definitely not a hero.

"Tell you what, come upstairs with me to the attic, I'm going to give you something suitable for a hero."

"A cape?" I jokingly asked.

"No, but much better." Grandpa said with a smile.

The attic contained many things from Grandpa and Grandma's past. They were not the kind of people who threw old things away. Even if some of the things were broken, they were still kept in here. It was like their personal museum.

"Here," Grandpa approached a very old and huge chest. It must have not been opened for a quite a long time because he had difficulty in opening it. When he finally did, dust flew everywhere and we both coughed.

The chest was full of clothes. Grandpa took out some of them to look for something that was underneath. There were military uniforms, coats, suspenders, even Grandma's wedding dress, until he took out a thick, brown thing.

"Ah, yes. This," Grandpa said as he patted the dust off it. He held it out, and I saw that it was a jacket.

"Wow, this looks really cool, Grandpa!"

"Now, this is the symbol of my heroism. Remember my old picture downstairs with my fighter plane?"

"Yeah, the one where you won in the war and defeated the bad guys?"

"Yes, Alfred. All those who fought in the war were declared heroes for defending our country. I'm handing this over to you. Now, I hope you won't have to fight in a war like I did. But you have your own battles to fight in your life. So when you feel like you're about to give up, remember that there is someone who believes that you are a hero.

For that moment, nothing else mattered to me except my grandfather's words.


After our visit to my grandparents, Mom said that she needed to pick up some groceries. I decided to go to the bookshop to find something to spend with the money that Grandpa gave me.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry for the disturbance. But can you please take a moment to answer my survey? It won't be long, I assure you."

I looked up immediately because the voice was unlike the usual kind that I hear every day. It was foreign, distinguishable, and very pleasant to listen to.

Sure enough, the owner of the voice was very foreign and distinguishable because it was him. Private school boy.

"Sure!" I answered immediately, trying to mask the excitement in my voice.

He looked at me, the surprise evident in his widened green eyes. He did that thing again, the up and down look, as if not being able to believe that I was the same person he saw last time.

"Oh, well, thank you very much for cooperating with me. You see, this is for a school requirement." He handed me the survey sheet and a pen.

"Really? I hope the questions aren't that hard. I don't know if I could keep up with your advanced private school lessons."

"Oh no, don't worry, they're not school-related questions. They're personal questions and your info would be kept confidential."

"Oh, okay," I scribbled my name on top of the paper, even though it said that it is only optional to put your name. I wrote my complete name in big, capital letters so that it would stand out and he would remember it.

His survey had many questions, but here are a few of them:


A Survey for Bookshop Customers

Prepared by Arthur Kirkland, 10th Grade


Name (Optional): ALFRED F. JONES :)

Age: 15

Occupation: Student


How often do you go to the bookshop?

( ) Every day

(X) 4-6 days a week

( ) 2-3 days a week

( ) Once a week

( ) A few times a month

( ) Others (please specify) _


How much do you spend on books and other reading materials per visit?

(X) Less than $1.00

( ) $1.00-$5.00

( ) $5.01-$10.00

( ) $10.01 above


What kind of reading material do you spend most on?

( ) Books

( ) Magazines

( ) Newspapers

(X) Comic books

( ) Others (please specify) _


So that's his name, Arthur Kirkland. And he's in tenth grade. A year higher than me.

There was an awkward silence as I answered the survey. At first he stood beside me awkwardly, then he started pulling out books and skimming through them. I purposefully answered the survey slowly to steal glances from him every so often. I tried to show a cool and collected demeanor but inside I was giddy and excited. We have talked, we have actually talked! And now I know his name and what grade he is in. And I also found out that he is English, just judging by the accent.

All of the new information was overwhelming me that I jumped when he tapped my shoulder.

"Er, excuse me, sorry, but are you nearly done?"

"Yeah! Almost, just a sec!" Thinking about how in the world I would get to talk to him again, I scribbled my phone number beside my name. Part of me was saying that a rich kid like him would never call someone like me, but hey, you'll never know if you don't take chances!

"Here ya go!" I handed him the paper with a huge smile on my face.

"Ah, thank you so much," He gave a small smile that actually sent butterflies to my stomach. "Have a good day."

"Thanks, you too, Arthur!" I smiled, daring to call him by his name.

He looked surprised, and I swear I saw a faint blush on his cheeks when he glanced at my paper and saw the phone number I wrote there.

"W-well, ah, if you'll excuse me," he stammered and then he hurriedly looked for another person for his survey.

I saw him glance at me again, though, but I wasn't sure what his eyes were telling. Shock? Curiosity? Fear? But he quickly looked away again when he saw that I was also looking. And again, I swear that there was that blush on his cheeks.

As I walked out of the shop with a new limited edition Avengers book, I wondered if my bold stunt had scared him away. But still I was very happy, and there was this hopeful part of me that the two of us would still get a chance to talk again. Someday.


Author's Notes: Hello guys, (a late) Happy New Year! *blows horn* So, yeah, I finally updated after three months and I'm so sorry because college, college, and my laziness. Haha, I hope you'll bear with me guys, since there are really times when I get writer's block. But I will really try to update as much as I can!

I hope this year turns out to be better for all of us!