Page 2 of Clinically Awkward

Gabriel leaned forward, excitement written across his face. “What did you do?” he asked, as if awaiting the results of a championship game.

Fitz finally lifted his head, his hair sticking up wildly, and his complexion pale and clammy. He protested, “I didn’t do anything. I don’t remember doing anything.”

Nathan read aloud from his phone, relishing every word. “According to Winnie, you called her at 2:47 AM to tell her that her eyes were like ‘twin pools of administrative competence.’”

The comment was so absurd that I choked on my coffee.

Gabriel laughed, incredulous. “You did not,” he said, still grinning.

I managed to ask, “Administrative competence? That’s the best you could do?”

Fitz quickly responded, “I was drunk! And her eyes are very competent!”

Hayden shook his head, dismissing Fitz’s logic. “That’s not a thing. Eyes cannot be competent.”

Fitz muttered, “Winnie’s can. They’re very... organized.”

Nathan, still scrolling, revealed more. “Oh, it gets better. You also told her that you’ve been thinking about her ‘in ways that would violate several HR policies.’”

Julien dropped his head into his hands, exasperated. “Christ.”

Nathan continued, barely able to contain his laughter. “And then you asked her if she wanted to ‘file some paperwork together, if you know what I mean.’”

The table erupted. Gabriel was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes. I was pretty sure I pulled something in my chest. Even Hayden cracked a smile, which was the equivalent of anyone else rolling on the floor.

“I hate all of you,” Fitz announced, putting his head back down on the table. “I’m changing my name and moving to Antarctica.”

“Winnie says you also serenaded her,” Nathan added. “With what she describes as ‘the worst rendition of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ ever inflicted on human ears.’”

“I have a very nice singing voice,” Fitz said, his words muffled by the table.

“Winnie says you sounded like a cat being murdered by another, slightly larger cat.”

“Winnie can go to hell.”

Nathan glanced up from his phone, a grin spreading across his face. “Winnie says you should probably avoid her for the next several business days. And possibly the rest of your natural life.”

“Done,” Fitz replied without hesitation. “I’m never speaking to her again.”

I couldn’t help but point out, “You say that every time. Last month you swore you’d never look at her again after you put that fake spider in her desk drawer.”

Fitz quickly defended himself. “That was different. That was a professional disagreement.”

Gabriel chimed in, reminding everyone, “You made her scream so loud that Mrs. Patterson in exam room three thought someone was being murdered.”

Fitz protested, “Mrs. Patterson is ninety-two and deaf in one ear. The fact that she heard anything is impressive.”

Hayden added, “The fact that you’re still employed is impressive. Winnie runs this place. If she wanted you gone, you’d be gone.”

Fitz shrugged, trying to sound confident. “She loves me.” But his tone lacked conviction.

I corrected him: “She tolerates you. There’s a difference.”

Nathan agreed, “A significant difference.”

“GENTLEMEN.” Julien’s voice cracked like a whip, immediately grabbing everyone’s attention. All conversation ceased as we turned to look at him. He had risen from his seat, both hands firmly planted on the table, his tablet now forgotten. There was an unmistakable twitch in his left eye—a warning sign we all recognized. “I have been trying to discuss this week’s schedule for the past fifteen minutes. We have three new patients, two follow-ups, and a potential emergency surgery on Wednesday. Could we please, for the love of God and all that is holy, focus on actual medicine for five consecutive minutes?”

The room fell silent as we all stared at him, caught off guard by his sudden outburst.