Page 128 of Clinically Awkward

“Brilliant,” Fitz said, clapping slowly. “Truly inspired. I think you’ve invented a new sport. Golf, but worse.”

“I hate all of you,” Nathan said, stomping toward his golf cart.

I took a sip of my beer, because yes, we were drinking on the golf course, because apparently that was what responsible medical professionals did on their day off, and watched as Julien stepped up to the tee.

He looked... tired. Not physically tired.

Existentially tired. Like a man who had been ground down by the universe and was now just going through the motions.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

“The universe is out to get me,” Julien said.

“What?”

“The universe,” he repeated, lining up his shot. “It’s conspiring against me. Actively. With malice.”

I blinked. “Are you... feeling okay? Do you need to sit down? Should I check your pupils?”

“I’m fine,” Julien said. “I’m just stating a fact. The universe has decided that I, specifically, am its target for cosmic retribution.”

He swung. The ball sailed perfectly down the fairway, landing exactly where he intended.

“Nice shot,” Gabriel said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Julien said darkly. “The universe will find a way to punish me for it later.”

We all stared at him.

“Is he...” Nathan whispered. “Is he okay?”

“I think his wife broke him,” Hayden said.

“Athena didn’t break me,” Julien said, walking back to his cart. “She just... opened my eyes to the reality of cosmic injustice.”

“That’s the same thing,” Fitz said.

“It’s not.”

“It absolutely is.”

Julien ignored him, taking a long drink from his water bottle, because of course Julien brought water to a golf outing where everyone else brought beer, and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “mercury retrograde.”

Oh God.

His wife really has broken him.

“Right,” I said, stepping up to the tee. “My turn.”

I lined up my shot, took a breath, and swung. Standing there, I watched as my ball sailed beautifully through the air, landed on the green, and rolled to a stop about ten feet from the hole.

“SHOW OFF,” Nathan yelled from his cart.

“That’s called ‘competence,’” I called back. “You should try it sometime.”

“I’m competent!”

“You hit a tree.”