**Teenage Troubles**
Because they disagreed on how to raise their child, Diana and Tom divorced. Each blamed the other in their own way.
“Tom never took responsibility for anything, so I had to handle every problem since the day Oliver was born,” Diana would explain.
“My ex-wife never knew how to relaxalways micromanaging, doing unnecessary things, which just made her miserable,” Tom would say.
Oliver was fourteen, living with his mum, seeing his dad once a weektwo weekend days and Wednesdays after football practice. Even though Diana and Tom had split nearly eleven years ago, neither had remarried. Tom lived alone in his late mothers flatshed passed seven years ago from a long illness.
When Oliver stayed with his dad, especially this past year, Diana felt a bit lighterthough she still worried. She didnt trust Tom to be responsible.
“Joking around, having funthats his thing. Entertainments always been his world. But building something serious? That never worked for us. Before Oliver, everything was fine. Then parenthood changed everything,” she told her mum and friends.
With baby Oliver, Tom barely helpedno care, no chores. Diana embraced motherhood straight away, but Tom never quite settled into fatherhood. Resentments piled up until they split.
That was Dianas version. Tom saw it differently.
“We just didnt understand each other. I always imagined how amazing itd be to have a kidteaching him the world. But Diana turned parenthood into a minefield of rules and worry. She was terrified of germs, convinced everything would harm Oliver. I ended up afraid to even hold him. And if I tried helping, it was never good enough. So I stopped offering,” Tom admitted to friends. It still hurthe felt like a failure.
“Tom, we should divorce,” Diana announced one day. To his own surprise, Tom felt relief.
So they split calmly, agreeing Tom would still see Oliver.
“Why argue with someone who wont listen? Shes always right. Whats the point?” he thought.
Eleven years later, Tom hadnt remarriedonce was enough. Professionally, though, he thrivedironically, thanks to his “fun” side. He designed video games, earning well.
One evening, after tidying the kitchen, Diana headed to Olivers room, annoyed.
“Left the bathroom light on againsuch a scatterbrain. Just like his dad.” She ignored the “Do Not Enter” sign and pushed the door open.
Same as always: Oliver glued to his monitor, not even looking up.
“Sweetheart, flipping a switch isnt hard. Youre not a childI shouldnt have to do everything.”
“Fine,” Oliver muttered.
“Thirty more minutes, then homework. Remember your test tomorrow.”
Half an hour later, he hadnt moved. She snapped at him to study. He rolled his eyes, grabbed his history textbook.
As she prepped soup for his lunch tomorrow, she wondered:
“How long will this phase last? A year ago, he just changed. Completely unruly. Teenagers, eh? We all go through it. But if this drags on, Ill lose my mind.”
Saturday, Tom arrived for Oliver, who bolted from his room.
“Dad! Finally!” Tom loved their weekends too.
“Did you pack your books?” Diana pressed.
“Ugh, Mum, not again!” Oliver groaned, grabbing his heavy backpack and following Tom out, waving her off.
Tom caught her parting shot: “Help him with mathshis marks are dreadful! And history too! And no pizza every night!” The door slammed.
In the car, they grinned.
“So, whats the plan?” Tom asked.
“Movies, then the park?” Oliver smirked. “And pizza first!” They laughed.
Now that Oliver was older, Tom had found a way to bondfriendship didnt happen by itself. They hung out, shared interests, kept things light. No lecturesjust easy chats.
“Hows school?”
“Fine, Dad. Ive got it.”
“Course you do. But if youre stuck, well figure it out.”
“Its fine. Just my history teachers got it in for me. PEs the only decent class”
After they left, Diana sighed.
“Of course hes thrilled. Tom only reconnected once Oliver got older. Typicalall fun, no responsibility. Meanwhile, Im stuck with homework, cooking, cleaning. And Oliver adores him for it.”
“Brilliant weekend. Go on, get inside,” Tom said, dropping Oliver home Sunday night.
“Dad, that was awesome! Cheers!”
Monday, Diana dreaded parents evening. Olivers report made her blood boil: a few Bs, an A in PE, the rest Cs and Ds.
“Thats ithes grounded,” she fumed, barely hearing the teacher.
“Olivers failing history and maths. Hes bright, just lazyand plays games in class.”
Mortified, she stormed home.
“No laptop till those grades improve. And whens he supposed to fix them? Schools nearly over!”
She marched into his room, snatched his laptop mid-chat, and carried it out.
“No games till summer. Fix those Ds. How are you not ashamed?”
“Mum, relax. You always overreact,” Oliver said, echoing his dad.
She ranted untilslam. Oliver had bolted. She grabbed her phone.
“Tom, Olivers run offprobably to you! Hes talked about living with you before!” she sobbed.
“Calm down. Well sort it.”
“Dad, Ive been thinking I want to live with you,” Oliver said when Tom opened the door.
“Id love that, mate. But your mum wont agree. Not yet.”
“Dont make me go back. Please. Ill fix my grades.”
“Alright, stay here. Ill talk to her.”
To his shock, Diana barely resistedquiet, defeated. He convinced her faster than expected.
Next morning, Tom shook Oliver awake.
“Ollie, up! Seven alreadybreakfast, then school.” But when he checked back, Oliver was still asleep.
After a rushed breakfast and packed sandwiches, they raced off.
“Bed by ten tonight,” Tom said. Oliver nodded.
The week was blisspizza, laughs. Then Oliver started skipping school.
“Dad, dont worryteachers sick,” hed say. Repeatedly.
Diana got a call from school: Olivers truant, failing history and maths. She exploded.
“Like father, like son!” she screamed at Tom. “Im taking him homenow!”
At Toms flat, she was incoherent. Oliver fled before the storm.
“Your sons skipping school! Hes failing! Summer resits!”
As Tom calmed her, his own guilt gnawedhed trusted Oliver.
Then Dianas mum called.
“Olivers here. Says he cant live with you anymore. Let him stay awhile.”
“Hes at Mums,” Diana breathed.
“Dont cry,” Tom said, rubbing her shoulder. “We need a plan. Gran wont cope foreverhell bolt again. I was the same at his age. Clever lad, playing on her soft heart. Orders wont work. Weve got to team up. Whens your holiday?”
They went campingtents, backpacks, textbooks in tow. Diana drilled history; Tom tackled maths. The trip was golden.
Outside school on exam day, Diana and Tom held their breath.
“He did it!” Diana cried as Oliver burst out, waving his paper.
“Passed! Yes! Freedom!”
“Proud of you,” they chorused. Tom grinned. “Now for the best ice cream in town.”
At the café, watching them joke, Diana felt no angerjust lightness. Tom caught her gaze.
“See? We pulled it off. No more fearwere in this together.”
She knew the past was gone. But now, at least, they understood each other.
