Page 27 of Clinically Awkward

“WRONG! He had me at the New Haven Police Department,” Winnie said, her voice rising with every word, “bailing his drunk British ass out of jail because he was arrested for public intoxication and disturbing the peace.” Her outrage was as palpable as her exhaustion.

Silence fell, heavy and absolute, amplifying the shock in the room.

I looked at Fitz, whose eyes darted downward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

Fitz stared intently at the table, caught between shame and stubborn defiance, silently begging for the moment to pass.

Gabriel’s mouth hung open, astonished, as if words had completely abandoned him for the first time all morning.

Nathan was grinning as if Christmas had come early, clearly relishing every second of Fitz’s humiliation.

Hayden had removed his glasses and was pinching the bridge of his nose, dreading the inevitable fallout from Fitz’s antics and already mentally calculating the hours of damage control ahead.

Julien just stared, narrowing his eyes. “You got arrested?” he asked, voice as even as ever—though his disbelief was unmistakable.

Fitz slumped on the edge of his chair, his cheeks still pink from the night’s escapade. “It was a misunderstanding,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples as if hoping to erase the memory.

Winnie paced back and forth behind the conference table, her hands clenched tightly around the cup. “A MISUNDERSTANDING?” she thundered, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You serenaded the entire New Haven Police Department with ‘God Save the Queen’ at two in the morning!”

Fitz offered a crooked smile, never missing a beat. “It’s a very patriotic song. I thought it might improve their night.”

Winnie huffed with exasperation. “YOU’RE IN AMERICA, FITZ!”

“I was feeling homesick!” Fitz shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as if daring her to see the humor.

“You were feeling DRUNK,” Winnie shot back, her glare unwavering.

Fitz stretched his legs out, flashing her a mischievous grin. “Those two things are not mutually exclusive, Winnie. You should know that by now.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed, the sound echoing off the conference room walls.

Winnie, the group’s unofficial leader and ever the responsible colleague, snapped her head toward me, her grip tightening on her coffee cup. “This is not funny, Quinton.” Her tone was sharp—weighted with the exhaustion of someone used to corralling chaos.

I couldn’t help but smirk, knowing my dry humor usually lightened moments like these among our close-knit team. “It’s a little funny,” I replied, my voice teasingly light.

Nathan, whose easygoing nature always diffused tension, let out a chuckle, his laughter echoing around the group of long-time collaborators. “It’s hilarious,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement.

Gabriel, ever the optimist and the group’s resident jokester, grinned broadly. “It’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week,” he announced, leaning forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Julien, the ever-serious analyst, crossed his arms, lips twitching despite his stern words. “It’s deeply concerning,” he said, but even he struggled to suppress a smile.

Hayden, the senior member and voice of reason, sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if the decades of wrangling this eccentric group weighed on him. “I’m too old for this,” he muttered, resignation softening his tone.

With the air thick with amusement and exasperation, Winnie turned back to Fitz—the group’s lovable troublemaker—her glare as fierce as ever. If looks could kill, Fitz would have been reduced to ashes on the conference room floor. “Do you have any idea what I went through last night?” She demanded, her words clipped and trembling with frustration.

Fitz, ever quick-witted and playful, offered a sheepish grin. “I’m assuming it was unpleasant?” he quipped, the faintest trace of a British accent coloring his words.

Winnie’s hands trembled slightly as she gripped her coffee, recalling the chaos. “UNPLEASANT? I got a call at 2:47 AM from the New Haven Police Department saying that Dr. Fitzpatrick Lovejoy had been arrested and was asking for me specifically.”

Fitz leaned back, a twinkle in his eye. “That’s very flattering, actually. It means I think of you in times of crisis.”

Winnie rolled her eyes, her exasperation cutting through her professional composure. “It means you’re an IDIOT who doesn’t have anyone else’s phone number memorized!”

Fitz shrugged with a grin, never missing a beat. “I have several phone numbers memorized. Yours just happens to be the most aesthetically pleasing. I can’t help it if your number sings to me.”

Winnie blinked, baffled, her annoyance only deepening. “What does that even MEAN?”

Fitz tapped his fingers on the table, his tone almost musical. “It has a nice rhythm. Very musical. Easy to remember.”