**The Teenage Years**
Dina and Arthur divorced because they saw parenting differently. Each blamed the other in their own way.
«Arthur never took responsibility for anything, so I had to handle everything from the day Alfie was born,» Dina would explain.
«My ex couldnt relaxalways micromanaging, fussing over pointless things, and making herself miserable,» Arthur would counter.
Alfie, now fourteen, lived with his mum and saw his dad once a weektwo weekends a month and Wednesdays after football practice. Though theyd split nearly eleven years ago, neither had remarried. Arthur lived alone in his late mothers flatshed passed seven years ago after a long illness.
Weekends with Dad were Alfies highlight, especially this past year. Not that Dina got any peaceshe still worried. «Hes hopelessly irresponsible,» shed mutter.
«Jokes and fun? Thats his thing. But building anything serious? Impossible. Before Alfie, we were fine. Then parenthood changed everything,» she told her mum and friends.
Arthur had barely lifted a finger when Alfie was littleno help, no chores. Dina had embraced motherhood instantly, while Arthur never quite clicked into fatherhood. Resentments piled up, and eventually, they split.
From Dinas perspective, at least. Arthur had his own version.
«We just didnt understand each other. I used to dream about having a kidshowing him the world, teaching him things. But Dina turned parenting into a minefield of rules and paranoia. I got scared to even hold him. If I tried helping, it was never good enough. So I stopped offering,» Arthur confided to mates, still smarting from feeling like a failed dad.
«Arthur, we should divorce,» Dina announced one day. To his surprise, he felt relief.
They parted amicably, agreeing Arthur would still see Alfie. «Why argue with someone who wont listen? Shes always right,» hed think.
Eleven years on, Arthur hadnt remarriedonce was enough. Professionally, though? Thriving. Ironically, thanks to his love of funhe designed video games. Quite successfully, too.
One evening, Dina tidied the kitchen and headed to Alfies room.
«Left the bathroom light on again. Just like his father,» she grumbled, ignoring the *»Keep Out»* sign on his door.
Inside, Alfie was glued to his screen, barely glancing up.
«Alfie, flipping a switch isnt rocket science. Youre not a toddler,» she sighed.
«*Yeah, yeah*,» he mumbled.
«Thirty more minutes, then homework. Remember your maths test tomorrow?»
Half an hour later, he hadnt moved. She yanked him off the game, prompting an eye-roll and a hissed complaint as he grudgingly opened his history book.
Prepping soup for tomorrow, she wondered, *How much longer will this teenage phase last? A year ago, he was still manageable. Now? Utter chaos. But then, all kids go through it though my nerves might not survive.*
Saturday arrived, and Arthur swung by for Alfie.
«Dad! Finally!» Alfie cheered, bolting from his room.
«Got your books?» Dina pressed.
«*Ugh*, Mum, not again,» he groaned, grabbing his backpack and darting out with a wave.
Arthur caught her parting shot: «Help him with maths, his marks are awful! And *no* pizza every night!»before the door slammed.
In the car, father and son grinned.
«So, whats the plan?» Arthur asked.
«Movies, then the arcade?» Alfie smirked. «And pizza first!» They burst out laughing.
Somehow, Arthur had cracked the code with his teenage sonbonding over shared time, not lectures.
«Hows school?»
«Fine, Dad. Ive got it.»
«Course you do. But if youre stuck, well figure it out.»
«Mr. Harris just hates me for no reason. Only decent teachers the PE bloke»
After they left, Dina sighed. *Of course hes thrilled. Arthur only reconnected once Alfie was fun-sized. Typical. I do the hard workhomework, chores, mealswhile he plays cool uncle. No wonder Alfie adores him.*
Sunday night, Arthur dropped Alfie home.
«Cheers, Dad. Best weekend!» Alfie beamed.
Monday brought a parents evening. Dinas stomach knotted as the teacher slid Alfies report across the table: a smattering of Cs, a B in PE, and glaring Ds in maths and history.
*Thats it. Hes grounded.* Fury blurred the teachers words. «Alfies bright but lazyplus he games in class»
Humiliated, Dina stormed home.
«No laptop until those Ds are fixed. *If* he can salvage them this late»
She marched into Alfies room, snatched his laptop mid-chat, and carried it out.
«No games till summer. Fix. Your. Grades. *How* are you not ashamed?»
«*Mum*, youre overreacting,» Alfie mutteredechoing Arthurs words.
Her tirade ended only when Alfie bolted, door slamming behind him. She grabbed her phone.
«Arthur, Alfies run offprobably to you. Hes talked about living with you before»
«Calm down. Well sort it.»
«Dad, I want to stay with you,» Alfie pleaded when Arthur answered the door.
«Id love that, mate. But your mum wont allow it yet.»
«*Please*. Ill fix my grades.»
«Alright, stay here. Ill talk to her.»
To his shock, Dina barely resistedquiet, defeated. He coaxed her into agreeing.
The next morning, Arthur shook Alfie awake. «Up, lad! Breakfast, then school.» Ten minutes later, he found Alfie still snoozing.
They scarfed toast, Arthur packed sandwiches, and they raced off.
«Bed by ten tonight, deal?» Alfie nodded.
For a week, father and son lived in harmonypizza, banter, bliss. Until Alfie started skipping school.
«Supply teacher, Dad. Waste of time,» hed say. Repeatedly.
Then Dina got *the* call.
«Alfies missed weeks. Those Ds stand. Hell resit in July.»
Fuming, she rang Arthur. «*Father of the year!* Im taking him home. *Now.*»
Storming into Arthurs flat, she sputtered, «*You**we*our *son*I just left school» Alfie fled mid-rant.
«Your sons flunking. Resits in July.»
As Arthur calmed her, his own trust in Alfie crumbled.
Then Dinas mum rang. «Alfies here. Says he cant live with you anymore. Let him stay awhile.»
«Hes at Mums,» Dina exhaled.
Arthur squeezed her shoulder. «We need a united front. My mum caved for me too. Bans wont work. Whens your holiday?»
They packed tents, rucksacks, and textbooksDina drilling history, Arthur tackling mathsand headed out. The trip was a riot.
Now, outside school, Dina and Arthur held their breath. Alfie burst out, waving a paper.
«*Passed!* Both! *Freedom!*»
«Brilliant!» they chorused.
«Right,» Arthur grinned. «Best ice cream in town?» He hit the accelerator.
Watching them joke in the café, Dina felt no angerjust lightness. Arthur caught her eye.
«See? We did it. Together, were unstoppable.»
She knew the past was gone. But this? This worked.
