For his 15th birthday, Abe didn't only invited his family this time. Of course, his maternal grandparents, along with his uncle Ari, and his paternal grandparents, were here. As usual. But… There was also you this time. But this did not changed his family's habits of… Arguing. At family reunions.

They argued about religion, about Palestine and Israel, hell, about which culture owned falafels. But the biggest arguing starter was religion. His maternal side of the family, the Jewish-Israeli side; his grandfather Benjamin, his grandmother Sevta, and his uncle Ari, wanted him to have his bar mitzvah to become a man 'fully'… While the paternal side of the family, the Muslim-Palestinian side; his grandfather Salim and his grandmother Aida, would want Abe to be observing Ramadan instead.

And special guest or not, they argued. And it was almost as if you were one more reason for them to argue about new topics. Abe sat at the end of the table, his back against the chair's backrest, his shoulders slumping, his head down… He was frustrated. Annoyed about his family's arguing, even in front of you.

"The truth is… Abraham is Jewish and Israeli through his mother." Abe's grandfather, Benjamin, gruffily said, his shaky hands moving as to accompany his words as he shot a slight glare towards Abe's other grandfather, Salim.

Abe's paternal grandmother, Aida, scoffed as she saw Benjamin's look, muttering something in Arabic before speaking up. "Not at all! Ibrahim is Muslim and Palestinian through his father."

"Can we talk about something else at the table, please?" Rebecca, Abe's mother, tried to intervene as her eyes darted between the two men with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'll do it." Abe then said, his eyes darting up to his maternal grandparents. "I'll have my bar mitzvah."

At that, Benjamin's smile widdened, standing up from his chair clapping his hands shakily. "Ah, Chamud…"

Abe's father, Amir, though… He wasn't into it. Not because he prefered his son to become Muslim, but because he'd rather have Abe far away from this whole religion mess. "I don't think it's a good idea---"

"For your bar mitzvah, we'll need a chocolate fountain, kiddo." Abe's uncle, Ari, said amusedly, nudging Abe's elbow gently.

"And with Muslim musicians." Abe then added, his eyes darting towards his paternal grandparents.

"Wha---" Abe's maternal grandmother, Sevta, was about to retort, before Abe's mother tried to step in.

"Let's get to the cake!" Rebecca spoke up, standing up from her chair. But it didn't stopped anyone.

"I can do both." Abe stated, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Ay, Habibi, no. In any way you can be both!" Abe's paternal grandmother, Aida, spoke up, her expression almost offended looking as Abe even tried to speak up about doing both.

"You have to choose, Chamud." Benjamin gruffily stated, his eyebrows furrowed.

And just like that, it started again. While Abe's mother set the cakes on the table; the one his paternal grandparents brang (where 'Ibrahim' was written in bold, sugar letters), the one his maternal grandparents brang (where 'Abraham' was written this time), and Abe's own cake he baked himself where he just wrote 'Abe', his family started arguing about the story of Israel, until Abe was sick of it.

And just as his mother lit up the candles, his father tried to stop his paternal grandmother, and his maternal grandfather was becoming almost aggressive with his words, Abe spoke up. Loudly enough for them all to hear… "I have a girlfriend."

And this…? This stopped them dead in their tracks. All of them. From his uncle to his maternal grandparents all the way to his paternal grandparents and his own parents.

"Wh-wha?---" His father, Amir, stammered. Dumbfounded.

His mother, Rebecca, meanwhile, chuckled nervously. "Sweetie, I--- What do you---"

But Abe only repeated himself. "I have a girlfriend."

His maternal grandmother choked on her red wine while his paternal grandmother, outraged. "Habibi!"

"Chamud---" His maternal grandfather started, his eyes widdening.