"Mum, I am begging you can you please put your differences aside for one day," George pleaded as he argued with his mother. "Just this once. Then never again, unless you want to, of course."
"It's not happening, George," his mother said back, George's dad sitting in the corner of the couch quietly as George's mother stood above him on the other side.
"I don't think his idea is all that bad—" George's father shot in, getting cut off immediately.
"Oh of course you find it a good idea, Robert!" his mother shouted. "Be considerate for once!"
Robert sighed and rolled his eyes before standing up. "Clay's mum is your friend, Eleanor, I think she'd appreciate a gesture like that."
Eleanor scoffed. "Yet she has never considered it," she said.
"Maybe she has! You don't know that, Elle, you haven't talked to her in years," Robert said.
George felt bad, guilty that he had started this whole argument by asking for a simple thing. Or what he thought was simple but clearly wasn't.
His stomach sank as he listened to his parents yelling at each other, the boy's ears ringing.
"Both of you just shut up!" George yelled as he stood up. "Can't you have one conversation without fighting or cutting each other off?"
Both of his parents shut up, looking over at George.
"Solve it like adults! This is so stupid," George muttered, breaking his way through his parents and planning on going back up to his bedroom.
Eleanor grabbed his arm, refraining him from leaving. "You still have something to tell me, young man," she said in a stern tone.
Robert sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and placing his hand on his hip. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, sitting back down on the couch.
"Sit down," she said, basically pushing George down onto the couch. "Now tell me, why were you and that son of a bitch Clay making out on my doorstep? You know how I feel about him! Why would you go behind my back like that—"
"Shut up!" George yelled. "This is ridiculous! Just let me live my life!"
No one dared to speak for a moment, George's mother glaring at him as she processed what to say next but her son beat her to it.
"And I'm not going behind your back, you haven't even been in contact with his mum for a while you barely know anything about them anymore!" George said. "Maybe part of the reason I 'went behind your back' is that I barely talk to you, ever."
"George," she sighed. "This isn't about his family. It's about you two. You quite obviously have something to tell me."
"No," George said, getting ready to leave. "I'm leaving."
"No the hell you're not," she said. "You're not leaving until you tell me what is going on! You came home yesterday and still refuse to tell me how you've been! George, you're never like this!"
"I'll tell you," George said. "If you at least go talk with Clay's parents tomorrow. And bring up my idea."
Eleanor sighed and rolled her eyes. "Why do you so desperately want to spend Christmas with them?"
George raised his eyebrows, tilting his head forward. "Take a wild guess."
"Fine," she caved in after a moment, taking a deep sigh. "Now, explain."
"Explain what, exactly?" George asked, just to get more onto his mother's nerves.
"You know what. You and Clay, what is that?"
