I can’t help but let out a short, harsh laugh. “Oh, I know that feeling. Maybe too well.”

His face lights up. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Going from this thing that dominates your whole world to nothing at all. It’s like, well, shit, can I even be anybody else?”

I exhale deeply. “I know what you mean.”

“But anyway, that didn’t pan out. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” I say.

He takes another chip and turns it over in his hand, considering it.

“So I guess what I’m saying is that, if this were a date, I wouldn’t mind,” he says.

I like the hopeful twinkle in his expression.

“Well, I—” I start to say.

“Hey, everyone!” Goose booms from the couch. “One minute to midnight. The countdown’s coming.”

He double-fists electronic devices, cutting off the music with his phone and using the TV remote to take the Times Square broadcast off mute. I hadn’t even noticed Melissa bustling in the kitchen, but while Ryan and I had been talking, she must have poured champagne into two dozen plastic flutes lined up in rows on the counter.

“Here, help me pass these out,” she instructs as she squeezes by me, clutching four to her chest.

I’m frustrated that my conversation with Ryan got interrupted. I grab as many flutes as I can carry and make my way into the crowd, passing them out. When I turn back to get more, Ryan is behind me, his gaze locked on the trembling, overly filled drinks. I hand three plastic flutes to strangers and keep a fourth for myself. I feel too self-conscious to take up prime real estate in a spot in front of the TV, so I move to the edge of the party, near the windows. There’s a roaring, rhythmic cheer coming from the hordes of tourists in Times Square that signals the new year is mere seconds away. I wonder how many millions of people must be watching this same exact sight, and what unfathomable pressure that must place on whoever is responsible for lowering that massive crystal ball.

“Ten, nine, eight,” the party chants.

I shrink closer to the windows, unsure whether or not to join in. They aren’t my friends.

“Seven, six, five,” they shout, growing louder.

Suddenly, Ryan slips between the couple to my left, and he’s by my side.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” I say, instantly feeling less alone here.

He places his hand on the small of my back.

“Four, three, two, one! Happy New Year!” everyone announces.