It wasn't what he think it is

But then Jenny’s eyes lit up with something mischievous. "Oh, there’s just one slight problem."

Glenn tensed. "...What?"

Jenny hesitated, putting on a sheepish expression. "Well… there’s just one more thing."

A sense of pure dread crept over him. "...What?" His voice wavered.

Jenny smiled. "Sweetheart… this isn’t a swimsuit."

Glenn frowned. "What are you talking about? It looks like one."

Jenny tilted her head. "Well… technically, what you’re wearing is a bikini."

Glenn blinked.

Jenny grinned. "A woman’s bikini bottom."

For a moment, there was silence.

Then his mother burst out laughing.

Glenn’s stomach dropped.

His hands shot to the waistband, his mind racing. Now that she said it, it did feel different. The fabric was softer, the liner felt oddly familiar—similar to the ones he’d seen in women’s underwear.

He wanted to rip it off immediately.

His mother wiped away a tear of laughter. "Oh, Glenn, I knew you’d never properly fit into men’s swimsuits anyway. Not with your tiny bit."

Glenn’s breath hitched. "I—I can’t wear a bikini! It’s for women!"

His mother shrugged. "Well, you just said you loved it. And it felt great."

"But—"

She snapped. "I am so sick of hearing you complain! First, you love it, now you hate it. You will wear this for your swim class, and that is final!"

Glenn flinched, his entire body rigid.

He didn’t dare argue—not with the other salesladies already glancing in their direction.

His heart pounded. He just needed to leave.

"...Can we go home now?" he muttered weakly. "Mom?"