Emil smiles a familiar smile, one that I’ve seen too often on my mom and Saul and Emil’s parents—black and Jewish and Korean, every one of us all too aware of the stupid things people say without thinking. A smile that says the only alternative is screaming with rage.
Bi, queer… it doesn’t really matter, as long as you’re happy. Just make sure you don’t let anyone tell you what you are. People can be real assholes about labels.”
“Well, I’ve never understood the whole issue some parents have with their kids not being straight.” She hugs me and then pulls away to look at me again. “It shouldn’t be the default, baby. I want you to be you, whoever that is.”
