Whatever.: or how junior year became totally f$@ked

She nods once, sharply. “Good. Now, who’s the boy?”
Boy? He can’t decide if this is worse than accidentally coming out to his mom. At least his mom didn’t interrogate him about his love life. “Uh. There’s no boy.”
“Nonsense. You don’t decide to be gay without a boy, that’s just poor planning.”
“It’s not like I decided—”
“Ostracized and alone,” Nana steamrolls right over his words. “I sincerely doubt your mother raised you to be that irresponsible—”

Nana gazes down at him shrewdly. She’s just a hair taller than him, but it’s still disconcerting. She says, “Your mother tells me you’re queer now.”
“She did not,” Mike says, horrified. He slumps back against the wall, palms catching at the slightly textured wallpaper. His knees feel weak.
“She used the term bisexual,” she narrows her eyes, “but no grandson of mine is going to be indecisive.”