They spend New Year's Eve in a rundown motel in Minnesota ("!"), exhausted from their six hour journey from Michigan. He;s beginning to wonder if doing the 50 Songs for 50 states tour in alphabetical order hadn't been the wrong idea. He's never travelled so far in his life. He hardly left home except to work until he met Gooch.
She's sitting on the end of their bed, watching the countdown in New York City again. The pale light from the television makes her look almost ethereal, even in their dingy little hotel room that smells strongly of mold.
Why she'd fallen in love with him, when there were so many greater guys out there. Handsome guys with all their hair. She chose him though, and damned if he didn't know he was lucky. He's luckier still that she loves him even after they've travelled to nineteen states together in one tiny car. She thinks his flop sweat smells manly. She sees something in him that no one, not even himself has, and –
Her fingers start to strum out Auld Lang Syne, and he realizes it's close to midnight. This is the first New Year that he hasn't resolved for the courage to kill himself. Last year their relationship was so new that he was resolving not to screw this relationship up, because he really would have to kill himself then.
This year he thinks he'll resolve to be the man she sees inside of him.
"Happy New Year, baby."
