Page 121 of Clinically Awkward

“How?” I asked. “How am I supposed to control this? We’re on the front page of the newspaper. There’s photographic evidence. We were literally arrested.”

“You’re the one covering the clinic,” Gabriel said. “You’re in charge. You need to... I don’t know, spin this somehow.”

“Spin it?” I repeated. “How do you spin ‘five doctors arrested for bar brawling’?”

“Team building exercise?” Fitz suggested.

“FITZ!”

“What? We did bond. Very effectively.”

Hayden was pacing now, muttering to himself. “Retirement. Florida. Boat. Peace and quiet. No more idiots. No more arrests. No more⁠—”

“Oh!” Winnie said suddenly, her face brightening. “I almost forgot to mention. The New Haven Journal is Julien’s favorite newspaper.”

We all froze.

“What?” Gabriel said slowly.

“The New Haven Journal,” Winnie repeated cheerfully. “Julien reads it every single day. First thing in the morning, with his coffee. He says it’s the most reliable source of local news in Connecticut.”

The color drained from Nathan’s face.

Gabriel looked like he might throw up.

Hayden stopped pacing and stared at Winnie with an expression of pure horror.

Fitz’s grin faltered.

And I—I was pretty sure I stopped breathing.

“Every day?” I managed.

“Every. Single. Day,” Winnie enunciated. “He’s very particular about it. He even has it delivered to his house, so he doesn’t miss an issue.”

“Oh my God,” Gabriel said.

“We’re dead,” Nathan said. “We’re actually dead.”

“I’m moving to Florida,” Hayden announced. “Today. Right now. I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” I said, my voice strangled. “We need to—we need to figure out⁠—”

“Figure out what?” Hayden demanded. “How to explain to Julien that we made the front page of his favorite newspaper because we got arrested for fighting in a bar? There’s no explanation. There’s no spin. We’re screwed.”

“He’s on vacation until Wednesday,” Vivian said, though she sounded less certain now. “Maybe he won’t see it. Maybe he’s too busy with the triplets to read the paper.”

“Julien always reads the paper,” Winnie said. “Even on vacation. He says it’s part of his morning routine.”

“Of course he does,” I muttered.

“So we have—what?” Nathan said, checking his watch. “Maybe twelve hours before he sees this and comes back early to murder us all?”

“He’s not going to murder anyone,” Vivian said, but even she didn’t sound convinced anymore.

“He’s going to murder Quinton,” Fitz said. “Definitely Quinton.”

“Why me?” I protested.