Page 55 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“See?” I give her a look because he so easily proved my point. “Look at that, the perfect example of toxic masculinity. It’s what you should strive for. Start taking notes. A team is only as strong as its weakest member and you are so weak, mom. You need to be more like him.”

“I sweat pure testosterone,” Dad says, keeping the same gritty, deep voice.

A smile twitches on her cheek, but she kills it immediately. “You should see someone about that.”

“I don’t even have blood running through me. There isn’t space for blood because my veins are filled with manly things like...alpha juice.”

“Alpha juice?” I echo in confusion.

“Yes.” He’s sounding like Christian Bale in the Dark Knight now. “Alpha juice made from real alphas...and sawdust...and road rage.”

My mother is not coping, but her expression remains neutral. “Seriously, Giorgio. You need to seek medical attention.”

He knows he’s in the lead and pushes on. “And I need to walk like this because my balls are so full of manliness, I can’t keep my legs together.” He half-squats and takes wide-legged strides towards me like a sumo wrestler. “Bump chests with me, son. Let’s show her how men do it.”

I shake my head, pulling my lips, and when I realize that’s still not enough, I cover my mouth with my hand. “Nuh-uh. Don’t do this to me, big man. I’ve got the best record in this game so far.”

“Do it.” He waddles closer. “Do it.” He grabs the front of my T-shirt and yanks me toward him. “Do it.”

I crack, my laughter filling the kitchen. “Shit!”

My mother flings a dishtowel at me. “Who’s the wuss now, huh? Fucking loser.”

“Be kind to my boy, Lorraine.” He ruffles my hair, then slaps a kiss on the side of my head. “You just put him through some turmoil there.”

My dad knows how much I can handle. My mom having a bad day like this is child’s play for me, so the fact that I called him in as backup earlier told him I’m not in the right headspace today. It’s an unwritten understanding we have between us that my mother and sister are his first priority, and I accept that without question, but him saying that is his subtle way of showing me he’s always looking out for me, too.

“And you?” Keeping his arm around me, he gives me a shake. “What’s up with you not being able to handle a few tears?”

“Rough day.”

My mother gasps. “It’s because of a girl. The one he nailed over the weekend. I think she’s the only girl in his life.”

“I didn’t nail her, mom!”

“Oh, sweetie, we know that. I was just kidding. Your father and I have no hopes that you’ll lose your virginity before forty. You need actual charm to fill the cream donut, and we know you’re seriously lacking in that department.”

“Shit!” I cover my face, feeling...just mortified. “Mom! Why are we even talking about this?”

My father shakes his head, staring at her with disappointment. “You need to self-reflect and ask yourself if this is really the person you want to be, Lorraine.”

“It is. So, why can’t you get it right with this other girl?” She raises a skeptical eyebrow at me. “Is she mad because she found out that you’re still pining over Francesca?”

“I’m not pining over Fran.”Because I keep obsessing over said other girl.They should trust me when I say I’ve moved on. “Do I miss her? Yes. But we both agreed it was best to end it.”

My mother isn’t convinced. “You still talk to her all the time. That’s not how you end things.”

I groan my aggravation because she just doesn’t get it. Just because Fran and I decided not to take our relationship further doesn’t mean we stopped being friends. Fran knows everything about me. She was, and still is, a big part of my life. How that translates into pining in my mother’s eyes is beyond me. “Fran is always going to be part of my life and that’s the end of that.”

“Well, if Fran isn’t the issue, why have you chosen to squander all that we have given you?”

“What are you saying?” Dad asks with a chuckle

“I’m saying that we blessed him with good genes, Giorgio. Look at him. Tall. Solid. Gorgeous. He’s a strapping young man. We gave him everything he needed to stuff the taco, and what did he do with those gifts? Nothing! Absolutely nothing.”

“She has a point, son. With all that you have going for you, you should be smacking the salmon more often.” He winks at her because they’re tag-teaming now.

“I’m fine when it comes to girls,” I say, desperately trying to put an end to this conversation. “So, can you stop talking about my sex life...or lack thereof? And can you please, please, for the love of God, stop talking about it in conjunction with these weird food references?”

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