Jiley Oneshots

Mother's judgement

Riley's POV:

"I know what I heard, Riley, and there is no way I am allowing such immodesty to happen in this household," Mom rambles on to me as I was sat on my bed at seven o'clock in the night. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and growing more frustrated by the minute. "Your father might not be home right now, but I'm sure if he was here, he would say the same."

"We were just kissing, Mom!" I answer, exaggerating and stressing my words. "We weren't doing anything anywhere near close to being 'immodest'," I say as I make quotation marks with my fingers to mock what she had just said. "Can I go now? I'm supposed to be meeting at James's for us to go to the movies-"

"No," she says quickly, pushing me back down on the bed the moment I stand up. I groan and sigh with aggression.

"Mom-uh!" I whine again.

"You won't be going anywhere near James for the rest of the week as punishment-"

"Punishment for what . . . !" I argue, raising my eyebrows in vast confusion. 

"For performing sexual activity in your bedroom-"

"We weren't!" I yell. "We were just kissing, what's so bad about that?!"

"The fact that you ignored me when I called you and disobeyed me when I told you to keep your door open."

"But we didn't even do anything wrong."

"You're only seventeen, Riley," she tells me gently, suddenly acting like the soft mother figure she could never be. "I don't want you to waste your life, thinking about boys. Especially boys who aren't very . . ." She pauses when she looks at me, noticing how a vivid frown overtakes my face to bring her to a halt.

"Boys who aren't very what?" I ask. She looks down, telling me to 'never-mind' when she mumbles in response. So I stand up again to look at her as she turns around. "No, Mom. Answer me. Boys who aren't what? What were you going to say about James?"

"Well . . . he's not very meticulous, is he?" she argues. I raise an eyebrow, scoffing. "He's just not the most industrious person in the world now, is he, Riley?"

"So?" I ask back with a snarky look on my face. "Do you have something against my boyfriend?"

"No, after all, you're the one dating him, not me-"

"Exactly. So what's the big deal? I don't care about how intelligent he is, Mom. He's so much more than that."

"I'm sure he is, sweetheart," she says. I roll my eyes at the sweetness-thing again. She only ever calls me those sort of pet-names when she's trying to side with me or get me to understand what she's saying. "It's just that . . . well, you could do better than that, surely."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I spit out. "What's so bad about him, Mom? Say it."

"Nothing's wrong with him, sweetie-"

"You just said there was!" I shout before scoffing for the second time. "You know what, it doesn't matter. Just get out of my room."

"Riley," she says when I grab her phone from off of my bedside drawer to place it in her hands whilst I lay my hand on my shoulder to guide her out. "I'm not done talking to you-"

"Too-bad, 'cause I am," I tell her forcefully, before she eventually makes her way out and I slam the door behind her, pressing my back up against it afterwards as I sigh to myself.

Later on, it had gone past midnight and I lay on my bed in cotton shorts with a tank top tucked into them. I'd thrown my hair into a messy high bun whilst looking up to the ceiling, my arms by my side. My night lamp was still on and Grey's Anatomy was silently playing on the flat screen tv in front of me but I was hardly watching because I couldn't hear it and was far-too tired to read off of subtitles. Mom was sleeping which is why I couldn't put the volume up and I didn't want to have to endure another one of her spiels in the same evening.