Page 66 of Clinically Awkward

“Aww,” Fitz cooed. “He loves her.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“You absolutely do,” Gabriel said gently. “Quinton, you’ve been spending every weekend with her for weeks. You invited her to your apartment. You slept with her. You’re not the kind of guy who does that casually.”

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

“You haven’t changed,” Nathan said. “You’re just in denial.”

“I’m not in denial.”

“You’re absolutely in denial.”

“I’m—” I stopped, took a breath, and tried again. “Look. Even if... hypothetically, I had feelings for Vivian, which I’m not confirming, it doesn’t change the fact that Julien is going to kill me.”

“True,” Hayden said.

“So, we need a plan.”

“Also true.”

“A plan that doesn’t involve my death, public humiliation, or fleeing the country.”

“That’s a tall order,” Fitz said.

“I’m aware.”

We sat in silence for a moment, drinking our beers and contemplating the impossible task ahead.

Finally, Gabriel spoke. “What if you just... told him the truth?”

I looked at him. “The truth.”

“Yeah. Sit him down, man to man, and tell him you have feelings for Vivian. That you’ve been seeing her. That you care about her and you want to do this the right way.”

“He’ll kill me.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel admitted. “But at least you’ll die with honor.”

“I don’t want to die with honor. I want to not die.”

“Then you should’ve thought of that before you shagged his sister,” Fitz said cheerfully.

Nathan raised his beer. “To Quinton: a man who made his bed and now has to lie in it. Possibly in a coffin.”

“Hear, hear,” Hayden said.

They clinked bottles.

I drained mine and seriously considered whether Argentina had good medical schools. “Okay,” I said finally. “Let’s say... hypothetically, I tell Julien the truth. What do I say?”

“Start with ‘I’m sorry,’” Gabriel suggested.

“Then add ‘Please don’t kill me,’” Nathan said.

“Then run,” Fitz added. “Very fast.”

“You’re all terrible at this.”