"Oh, I don't know," you answer, not know what "problem" he is talking about. "I guess they have to wait for some tests to come back."
"Well, I suppose that's to be expected," he replies, leaning against the door frame. You wonder what kind of relationship you are supposed to have with him. "If it's any consolation, your uncle was a late bloomer. He didn't have any development until after he was 18, if you can believe it! And *I* started puberty at 11! Our younger brother started at about 12 or 13, and was always mistaken for the second oldest. Boy, that made Parker mad!"
Oh. So THAT is what your problem is! So, unless you have a private tutor or something, you are probably the latest bloomer in your class... That can't be pleasant.
Suddenly, your "father" looks embarrassed.
"Well, I guess my point is that at least you don't have any younger brothers you have to worry about getting ahead of you," he hurriedly adds. "So, how do you like your new car? I'm assuming you got your license since you've been out driving it."
You briefly wonder how you got your license if you didn't have someone drive you to the DMV. Come to think of it, don't you have to have a parent or legal guardian along with you...? You mentally shrug, and haul out your wallet and show him the license.
"Good job, son!" your "father" states, mock punching you in the shoulder. Actually, come to think of it, the punch does hurt a little bit... "Hey, I've got another birthday surprise for you. It's..."