Los Angeles | 2009
Bradley's POV
I pushed open the front door, the muted sounds of the party outside fading behind us. I thought we could slip in quietly, find my mom, and just… be. A foolish assumption.
The moment we stepped into the living room, the conversation stopped mid-sentence. My dad, Mom, Phil, Claire, Jay, Gloria, Haley, Luke, Manny, and Erin were all there, a multi-generational assembly arranged on our couches. A dozen pairs of eyes swivelled in our direction, first landing on our faces, then dropping in perfect, unsubtle unison to where Alex's hand was linked with mine between us.
The silence stretched for a beat, thick and expectant, before it was shattered by Claire.
"Oh, look at you two!" she exclaimed, her face breaking into a wide, delighted grin. "You look so cute as a couple!"
A hot blush crawled up my neck and I felt Alex stiffen slightly beside me. All this attention was overwhelming, a sudden, intense spotlight on a feeling that was still new and quiet.
"Oh, Bradley, that's why you were in such a hurry," my mom said, a knowing, gentle smile on her face as she and Claire approached us like a welcoming committee. "You wanted to tell Alex you liked her."
"Way to go, B-Money!" Phil chimed in, pointing at us with his signature finger guns. "And Alex, honey, I'm so happy for you!"
Gloria clapped her hands together, her bracelets jangling. "Ay, qué romántico! This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"
Jay, from his armchair, just grunted, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Well," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "It's about time you figured it out, kid."
"Finally," Haley drawled, looking up from her phone with a smirk. "Now maybe she'll stop being so moody."
"A beautiful resolution," Manny declared, standing up as if to make a formal proclamation. "The heart has found its harbor."
"Whoa," Luke said, his eyes wide. "Are you guys gonna get married now?"
"Yay! Alex is your girlfriend!" Erin cheered, running over to give my leg a hug.
Through it all, I didn't let go of her hand. Her fingers were warm and steady in mine, a grounding presence in the middle of the happy chaos. I finally risked a glance at my dad. He wasn't saying anything, just watching me, and on his face was a simple, unguarded smile of pure, genuine warmth. That, more than anything, made it all feel real.
Mom stepped in then, her voice cutting through the happy noise. "We can discuss everything later. Bradley, your friends and their parents are about to leave. Go back to the garden and bid them farewell."
I had missed the entire second half of my own birthday party. Oh well. No regrets. I nodded to Mom and walked toward the backyard. As I slid the glass door open, I saw that the party was winding down, with most people already walking toward the main gate. The last remaining group was, predictably, the basketball team. I walked up to them as they gathered their things.
"Hey guys, thanks for coming," I said, offering a general nod to their parents as well. "It was a lot of fun."
Leo looked at me, a sharp glint in his eye, while David just had a sly, knowing smile on his face.
"It was a great party, Bradley," Leo's Mom chimed in. "I'm sure Leo enjoyed his time a lot, didn't you, sweetie?"
Leo stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Dude, everyone in the class knows. Jenna and Cathy weren't exactly discreet with the gossip after you left. You better be prepared when the next term starts."
I let out a quiet sigh. Of course. One problem solved, another one created. "I'll be careful. Thanks for the heads up. I'll see you for the tournament next week."
"Sure. Bye," he replied, jogging off to join his parents.
With the last of my friends gone, the backyard felt vast and quiet under the party lights. I walked back inside, the energy of the house having shifted from a chaotic party to a focused, concentrated buzz. I found the source of that buzz in the living room.
Alex was sitting on the ottoman, effectively surrounded. My family and hers were perched on the edges of the couches, leaning in like a panel of investigators. She was in the hot seat.
"So, was it a big, romantic confession?" Gloria was asking, her hands clasped together. "Like in the telenovelas?"
"Did he say something super cool and smooth?" Phil added eagerly. "I've got a few lines you can give him for next time if you want."
"Okay, but what happened with Jenna?" Haley pressed, leaning forward she had done some of her own investigating about our class gossip. "Did she, like, totally freak out?"
"Now, Alex, honey," Claire said, her tone a mix of happiness and maternal anxiety. "We're very happy for you, but we need to be clear about the expectations here…"
Alex, for her part, looked like a cornered chess master, deflecting each question with minimal, precise answers that gave away nothing. "We just talked." "It was a private conversation." "Everything is fine." Her posture was straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her expression a careful mask, neutral at all times. She was holding her own, but I could see the desperate look in her eyes. It was time for an extraction.
I stepped forward into the living room, and the circle of focused attention broke as all heads turned to me.
"Okay, I think that's enough questions for one night," I said, my voice calm but firm enough to command the room. I walked over to stand beside the ottoman where Alex was sitting, feeling her relieved gaze on me.
I looked at the assembled adults. "Alex was brave enough to tell me how she felt," I explained. "She wrote me a letter." I glanced down at her, offering a small, reassuring look before continuing, my voice leaving no room for argument. "And no, before anyone asks, no one else is going to read it. It's private."
I let that sink in, then added the final piece of information. "I told her how I feel, too. And yes, we're a couple." I met my mom's gaze, then Claire's. "We'll be responsible. You don't have to worry."
The effect was immediate. The intense, forward-leaning energy in the room deflated, replaced by a quiet, collective approval. Claire gave a sharp, satisfied nod. Phil shot me a double thumbs-up. Jay grunted what sounded like an "attaboy." My mom and Gloria simply shared a warm, knowing smile. The interrogation was officially over.
The conversation splintered after that, shifting to lighter, safer topics. After another hour of easy chatter, yawns began to punctuate the laughter, and the Dunphys and Pritchetts decided it was time to leave.
At the door, amidst a flurry of goodbyes and hugs, I caught Alex's eye. "Hey," I said, keeping my voice low so only she could hear. "Do you… want to go to the mall tomorrow? Or something?"
She glanced over at her mom, a silent question in her eyes. Claire, who had been listening with a small smile, gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod of approval. A bright, genuine happiness lit up Alex's face.
"Yes," she said, her voice full of a warmth that made my chest ache in the best way. "I'd really like that."
…
"Hey, Harris. How are you today?" I asked, sliding into the cool leather of the SUV's back seat.
"Good morning, Bradley. I'm well," he replied, his voice a low, even baritone. "Where are we headed?"
"The Dunphy residence first, then to the mall."
"Alright." he said, already focused on the road as he started the engine. Within a few minutes, we were on our way. I sent a quick text to Alex letting her know I'd be there in fifteen. Then, I turned my attention back to the man in the front seat.
Harris was the more reserved of the agents on my detail. Dad had personally assigned him to Erin and me, and I'd learned he was the only one from Homeland Security; the others were former military. I'd made it a point to build a cordial relationship. He was a constant in my life, and I didn't like having unanalyzed variables around me. He was in his late thirties, with a build that was more wiry than bulky—the kind of strength built for endurance, not just power. He had short, sandy-brown hair and a face that was all sharp, professional angles, except for the faint, tired lines around his eyes that his mirrored sunglasses couldn't quite hide.
"So, Harris," I began, my tone deliberately casual. "What was it like at DHS?"
"You know I'm not at liberty to disclose operational details, Bradley," he said, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror. It was an attempt to shut down the conversation. I wasn't going to let that happen.
"I get that. I just mean, is this better? Your work now?"
He hesitated for a moment. "It has its benefits. Protecting important assets is a crucial part of the job. This is certainly… calmer."
"So you don't miss the more active situations?" I pressed gently. As soon as I fired the question, I saw it: a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his eye. Check.
"It's not that," he said, his grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel. "I'm equipped to handle any situation. But a calm day is a good day in our line of work."
"Sure," I said, leaning forward slightly. "But the guys in Homeland, the guys in the service… they're in it for the action, right? Taking down threats, serving the country. That's the real draw, isn't it?"
"What I'm doing now is also a service to my country," he answered, his voice a little too tight.
"Of course. But even you must get bored just chaperoning kids all day," I said, delivering the final probe. "How about I ask Dad to recommend you for a return to active duty? I'm sure he could make it happen."
His composure finally cracked. I saw his jaw clench. Checkmate.
"No," he said, the word clipped and final. "No, you don't need to do that. I am happy where I am. Besides, if I wanted a reassignment, I would speak to the General myself. It's better it comes from me than from a kid, even if it is you."
That was enough for now. I had what I needed—a clear aversion to active duty, a defensiveness that hinted at something deeper. Maybe PTSD. The rest of the data would come in time.
"Alright, as you wish," I said, leaning back in my seat as we pulled onto the Dunphys' street. The conversation was over, and my first objective was in sight.
I walked up the familiar porch steps of the Dunphy house and rang the bell.
The door was flung open a moment later by Luke, who bounced on the balls of his feet with unrestrained energy. "Hey, Brad! Did you bring Erin? Can she stay? I thought we could use my monster truck to look for hidden treasure in the backyard!"
"Sorry, buddy," I said with an apologetic smile. "Erin's still at home. Maybe you can ask your dad to bring you over later. I'm here for Alex today."
"Oh." A flicker of disappointment crossed his face before it was instantly replaced by a new thought. "Okay! I'll go ask him now!" He jolted down the corridor and disappeared, leaving me standing in the entryway.
Chuckling to myself, I stepped inside and walked toward the sound of a blender whirring in the kitchen. I found Claire standing at the counter, pouring a green concoction into a glass.
"Oh, hi, Bradley!" she said, her voice bright and enthusiastic. "Ready for your big date with Alex?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dunphy. I very much am," I replied, matching her energy with a confident smile. "Could you call her for me, please?"
She nodded, a teasing twinkle in her eye. "ALEX!" she shouted toward the stairs. "BRADLEY IS HERE FOR YOUR DATE! COME DOWN QUICKLY!"
I heard the immediate sound of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later, she came into view.
She was just wearing a simple, dark grey t-shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans. Her hair was in its usual messy ponytail. But the girl who walked down the stairs wasn't the same one I'd been sparring with for months. The defensive tension in her shoulders was gone, replaced by a quiet, happy confidence. The cynical shield in her eyes had been lowered, revealing something warm and bright underneath. It wasn't the clothes. It was just her. And she was mesmerizing.
"Hey," she said softly as she reached the bottom step.
"Hey," I replied, my voice a little thicker than I intended. "You ready to head out?"
She nodded, grabbing a small bag from the hall table.
"Now, wait a minute," Claire interjected, her responsible-mom mode kicking in. "Who's going with you? I expect a guardian to be present."
I simply pointed out the front door, where the sleek, black roof of the SUV was visible at the curb. "Harris is right there. He'll be with us the whole time."
I saw a flicker of the memory—of agents and spilled groceries—cross Claire's face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of genuine reassurance. She gave a small nod, her smile a little tense, but appreciative. "Alright, then. Have fun, you two."
We stepped out into the bright afternoon. In the quiet, comfortable interior of the car, Alex turned to me as Harris pulled away from the curb. "So," she said, a curious smile on her face. "Where are we actually going?"
"I thought we could go to that big bookstore at the mall," I told her. "The one with the café inside. We can get some hot cocoa, and you can show me all the books on military history you think are overrated."
Her entire face lit up. It was a brilliant, unguarded smile of pure delight that made something in my chest feel warm and settled. "That," she said, her voice full of genuine happiness, "is a perfect plan."
The rest of the drive passed in easy conversation. When we arrived, I led the way through the mall, Harris following at a discreet distance, until we reached the wide, welcoming entrance of the bookstore. The moment we stepped inside, the chaotic noise of the mall was replaced by a reverent quiet and the rich, comforting smell of paper and ink.
We started in the bookstore's small café, two steaming mugs of hot cocoa warming our hands. The rich, sweet smell of chocolate and milk hung in the air, a comforting backdrop to the quiet murmur of the store.
"Okay," I said, after a long, comfortable silence. "Rules of engagement. We each recommend two books the other person absolutely has to read."
A competitive spark lit up her eyes. "Deal. But my picks are going to be better than yours."
"We'll see about that," I laughed.
We left our mugs and wandered into the towering aisles of the sci-fi and fantasy section, my natural habitat. I immediately pulled a worn paperback from the shelf, its cover depicting a vast desert landscape. "Dune," I said, handing it to her. "It's not just about sandworms and space travel. It's a masterclass in politics, religion, and the long-term strategy of power. You'd love the way the different houses scheme against each other."
She took the book, her fingers brushing mine, and studied the cover. "Okay, I'm intrigued." She then led me to the classics section and pulled out a simple, elegant copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. "This is required reading for being a good human," she said simply. "Atticus Finch is basically the gold standard for integrity."
As we walked, my hand found hers. It wasn't a calculated move; it just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her fingers curled around mine, a silent, perfect answer that sent a warmth spreading through my chest.
She then stopped in the main fiction aisle, her eyes scanning the shelves before landing on a book with a stark, red cover. "The Handmaid's Tale," she said, her voice more serious. "It's about how societies can collapse under their own ideology. It's terrifying and brilliant."
"I accept your challenge," I said, then my own eyes caught a title nearby. "The Lord of the Rings. It's the literal blueprint for every epic fantasy, a lesson in world-building, sacrifice, and how even the smallest person can change the course of the future."
"A little on the nose for you, don't you think?" she teased. "Besides I have read the Lord of the Rings, don't forget I'm a nerd too."
"The classics are classics for a reason, and just like you I have read To Kill a Mockingbird but maybe we can discover something new by reading them together." I retorted.
Our debate was interrupted when we both spotted it at the same time, on a display for alternate histories: a copy of The Man in the High Castle.
"No way," she breathed.
"Have you read Philip K. Dick?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"Are you kidding?" she said, her face lighting up with the pure, unadulterated joy of a fellow nerd. "The way he explores the nature of reality and what it means to be human in a world where history has been broken? It's genius!"
"Exactly! The moral ambiguity, the question of whether a better world is even possible..." I said, finishing her thought.
We stood there for what felt like an eternity, geeking out, completely lost in a shared world of what-ifs and philosophical questions. It was in these moments, watching her mind work, that I felt a profound sense of connection I'd never experienced before.
We didn't even notice the time passing until Alex's phone buzzed on the café table where we'd left our long-empty mugs. Three hours had vanished in what felt like thirty minutes.
She read the text and sighed, a look of disappointment on her face. "It's my mom. She's asking when we're heading back."
"We should probably go," I said, though I wanted nothing less.
We walked out of the store and back into the fading light of the afternoon. As Harris pulled the SUV up to the curb, Alex stopped and turned to me.
"I loved today, Bradley. So much," she said, her eyes shining with a genuine, unguarded happiness. She hesitated for a moment, then added, "If this is how things are going to be... then I can't wait for what's to come."
"Me too, me too"
____________________________________________________
Alright so there have been some comments made that the romantic subplot is corny and cheesy. I hear you and while I cant change the romantic plot upto chapter 34 I can manage it after that. Hence a poll:
Do you want me to tone down the romantic elements in the story or change the way I am writing the romance between Alex and Brad?
Comment with a yes in the yes paragraph comment and no in the no para comment. I will only count the yes and no. Not any other comment made. Remember No indicates you like the way I am weaving the romance and Yes indicates that you want me to change it.
YES
NO