New Years Day

She pulled her knees closer to her chest. "I hate New Year's," she told me. I cocked my head, silenttly urging her to continue. It was like she read my mind, taking a shaky breath to say, "What's the point? How coud it mean so much just to go to bed later? We still have to get up in the morning."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "Well... Do we?"

She looked to me with wide eyes.

"You don't mean...?"

I nodded. "Yeah."