December 31
Veronica anxiously checked her watch for the umpteenth time in the last hour.
It was finally 1:47 p.m.
Ha! Whoever said a watched pot never boiled was totally wrong. Two whole minutes had passed since she'd checked last and it was almost time to pick up Logan. Though pick up was relative since she didn't have to actually go anywhere to get him; she could essentially knock on the wall. Which again sent another wave of nerves through her spine. If anything went south with this whole date, she'd pretty much sentenced herself to be subjected to his banging doors and crappy music. And oh how she didn't want to move. But she'd not let her nerves get the better of her. She'd think positively! Logan was sweet...he was nice and thoughtful. Yet...he didn't want to spend his day freezing in Times Square. Maybe it was just his elaborate plan to be barricaded into a one-block pen with her.
No no! Don't go there, Veronica, she told the butterflies swarming her stomach. But there wasn't anything else to do. She'd taken Indy out already. She'd painstakingly applied her make-up until it was the perfect balance of just enough and not too much. She'd put on the cutest sweater that she'd splurged on a month ago from a fancy boutique in the Village that Mac had taken her to. Not that it would matter once she put her coat on. Times Square on New Year's Eve! she scoffed again, unwilling to admit that she secretly was just as excited for the ball drop as she was at the prospect of ten hours straight with Logan Echolls.
Veronica moved to sneak a glance at her watch again and then caught herself. This was getting out of hand. It was better to be a few minutes early than late, she reasoned, and she couldn't pace around her apartment one more second or she'd go mad.
That settled, Veronica donned her coat and used a static sheet to swipe at her hair once quickly before securing her warmest beanie and gloves. Then she pulled open the door with confidence she didn't feel and strode over to his apartment, rapping on the door with much more force than she'd intended.
Yikes, she winced, he's liable to think that a mugger is picking him up for a date.
The door swung open and Logan was there. Her heart warmed and instantly all the apprehension she'd been battling that day disappeared. It simply melted away. His brown eyes met hers and a small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. Logan let out a long sigh as if he'd been worried she wouldn't come. Or at least that's what she hoped. But he quickly regained composure and leaned against the door jam, feigning ease.
"Worried I'd ditch you, Echolls?" she asked him cheekily, tilting her head to the side in an attempt to appear coy.
"Never!" he answered, but she still wasn't convinced.
"You ready to go?" he asked.
"Yes, I figured we should get a move-on since you were so worried about getting a good spot," she told him. And I was too nervous to wait any longer, she added silently.
"I'm ready," Logan shrugged, his smirk growing into a full-fledged, yet shy, smile. He backed into his apartment, holding the door open with his booted foot, enough to collect his coat from the counter of the small galley kitchen that mirrored her own next door. Logan locked the door from the inside and then let it fall closed behind him before tumbling the deadbolt into place and pocketing his key. He motioned for her to precede him down the stairs and he followed closely behind her, tugging on his grey woolen beanie and black leather gloves as they descended.
When they reached the stoop outside their building, Veronica noted with some elation, that he had been right about the temperature. It wasn't as cold as yesterday had been and most of the snow had been shoveled into the gutter.
Veronica was determined to force her stubborn nature to take a backseat to her giddy inner-child. The child who wanted to spend New Year's Eve stuck in a pen with a cute boy for the whole day...and see that ball drop. Bolstered by her thoughts, Veronica boldly looped her arm through his and pressed them down the street toward Fort Washington Avenue. The A train waited for no man!
December 31, 2:43 p.m.
Veronica glanced around the barricaded block they'd been placed into and winced slightly as she looked south again.
"Are you sure that's it?" she asked sheepishly for the second time. "Because I really think it's somewhere else."
Logan let out a long sigh. "That's it," he said with assurance.
"It can't be," she pressed. "It's supposed to be...well, huge," she told him. "It's called the Big Ball."
"I think it is huge if you're—you know—closer," he said carefully with a tip of his finger in the direction of the ball in question.
Veronica felt her face fall. He must have noticed it too.
"It's fine!" he assured her. He really didn't look upset, but she couldn't be sure.
"I'm so sorry, Logan" Veronica told him, grabbing his arm as she pleaded. "You wanted to leave earlier. To be closer," she whined, feeling horrible.
Logan shrugged and nodded. "It is what it is, Veronica. We're here...let's look at the bright side." Logan turned in a circle, scanning their surroundings. "M&M anyone?" he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Argh!" Veronica groaned aloud, burying her face in her hands.
"I tried to warn you!" He burst out matter-of-factly, laughing heartily as he peeled her hands from her face. "It's fine, Veronica. Really."
"It's not all bad right?" Veronica asked, grasping at straws.
"Not all bad at all. Now we're not stuck listening to all those pesky live concerts like we would farther south. I mean, who wanted front row tickets to P!nk?"
P!ink! Veronica made a valiant effort to keep her face even. She always felt a slight kinship with her—diminutive girls with attitude, unite!
Dammit!
Logan caught her chin and lifted it up until they were looking at one another. "Veronica, don't look so glum, if we'd ended up five blocks lower, I wouldn't have had the honor of getting frisked by Auxiliary Officer McCann on the way in here—technically it was more of a groping—which was the most action I've had in months, so...win-win?"
Veronica relented. She laughed. Hard. She didn't know him enough to know if he was being totally sarcastic...or half-serious. It intrigued her. She wanted to get to know him better. She was studying him carefully, trying to judge his level of disappointment—and determining if it was possible that their entry-frisk/pat-down really was the most action he'd had in months—when a tall, young, very bundled stranger interrupted their conversation.
"'Scuse me," he said in a heavily accented voice. "My friends and I were wondering...where is the Ball?" He was tan with a broad smile despite the fact that his forehead was crinkled in confusion.
Logan snickered, knowing the sore subject was being brought up again and then pointed up to the top of One Times Square.
"No," the young man said. "That cannot be correct. It's so...small."
Veronica died again inside. She'd never live this down if she ever even saw Logan again after tonight—which, at this point, seemed doubtful.
Logan gave her a wary glance and then clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "Sorry, Man," he lamented.
"We came all the way from Monterey, Mexico to watch a marble drop!" one of the stranger's friends yelled, causing the whole group of penned people to begin cheering and laughing.
Veronica made a move to cover her face again, but Logan stopped her. He caught her arms midway and tugged them away. She'd give him that much, but she refused to meet his eyes. She could feel his hands shaking as he held her, and she took a chance and peeled her eyes from the concrete to find Logan laughing uncontrollably.
His laughter, fortunately, was contagious. After a moment she joined in too. Really what else was there to do at this point?
"So, master planner of New Year's Eve without strappy sandal or coat drama..." she asked him, her voice speculative. "What exactly is the plan for the next…" Veronica made a big show of pulling up her jacket sleeve and peeling back the top of her glove to check her watch, "oh, nine-and-a-half hours."
Logan made an equally big show of patting his pocket enticingly. Secretively. "You'll see," he told her slyly.
Veronica's curiosity got the better of her. "When?"
"Soon!" he promised. Then he pulled out his phone. "But first...pizza."
"Pizza," she laughed. "Here? Now?" At his nod, she continued. "How?"
Logan nodded his head to a pizza place located just across the intersection from their pen. He squinted, struggling to read the phone number printed across the awning. "They'll deliver!" Then he spoke into the phone. "I need an extra large pie—half cheese, half pepperoni—delivered to the guy outside the M&M Store." Logan listened for a moment and then spoke again, giving whoever was on the phone his name and number. After another moment, he said: "Perfect. I'll have cash," and then he hung up.
"An extra large?" Veronica questioned. "Who's going to eat all that pizza?"
"Our new friends from Monterey, Mexico," he informed her as if it were obvious. "Besides, it's really the box we want. The ground is freezing and we've got a long wait."
December 31, 5:23 p.m.
Logan nudged Veronica from his half of their connected cardboard pizza box.
"You okay?" he asked.
Veronica nodded and smiled up at him. "I am. This is way more fun than I thought it would be."
Logan beamed down at her and began shuffling the cards in his hands. "I'm glad," he said. "I suddenly had a flash of you yearning to be sitting at home in your warm apartment watching
Your Christmas Prince again."
Veronica narrowed her eyes and gave him a hard stare. "It's not Your Christmas Prince, it's A Christmas Prince. And I should have never told you about that," she muttered. But then she decided to play along. "But yes, I told you, I have to take advantage now before the franchise is ruined."
"Oh yes!" Logan snapped his finger as a memory came to him. "The dreaded sequel with the usurping relatives upsetting the wedding plans."
"Yes!" she used her most mock-exasperated voice. "And don't forget the coup de grâce."
"There's more?" Logan dropped his head back and laughed. "Tell me."
"Well, obviously in two years, after the royal wedding sequel, there will be the final installment where she gets pregnant."
"A royal baby," Logan deadpanned. "How the wounded hearts on their couches will swoon," he mocked.
"Yes. But," Veronica warned, her palm held out to stop him, "all is not going swimmingly for our leading couple." She shook her head.
"No!" Logan gasped.
Veronica shook her head. "No! This time the political drama will be international!" Veronica cracked at her own silliness, grinning.
"You're crazy," he told her, shaking his head and mixing the cards some more.
Veronica shook her head and gave him a nudge. "You say that now...but wait a few years. You'll see!"
Logan shrugged. "Another hand?" he asked, indicating the cards in his hands.
"Sure." Veronica took the deck from his hands and began dealing. "Your funeral."
December 31, 9:17 p.m.
"I win again!" Veronica announced, her arms raised victoriously.
A collective groan escaped from the group. "Not again!" one of their new Mexican friends lamented. Then everyone began talking within their respective groups. After their seven friends from Mexico, they'd attracted a small group in from Connecticut. Now their group was twelve. It had been like this all night...they kept coming together and moving apart. It was wonderful—like being a part of a big group of friends, but not being stuck with them.
"How can you have such fast reflexes?" Logan admired.
Veronica took a deep breath and released it as if she hadn't a care in the world. "It's a gift."
"No, seriously!" he pressed.
Veronica shrugged. "I'm not sure."
Logan didn't appear to be mollified.
"It's just Slap Jack, Logan. There isn't much to it," she told him.
And there really wasn't much to it. It had been the only game she could figure out how to explain in Spanish; they'd gotten tired of poker after the fifth hour. Good thing Logan had had three decks of cards hidden in his pocket.
"You won a few hands of Texas Hold'em," she reminded him.
"Yes, but watching how fast you are is almost hypnotizing. How did you learn to do that?"
"Maybe I have a superhuman amygdala?" Veronica shrugged. "Maybe cop for a father?" she surmised. "Maybe it comes with the territory of tracking down deadbeat dads and adulterers." Veronica wriggled under his intense scrutiny. "Or, I guess, maybe it's just me."
Logan seemed to relax a little, seemingly letting go of trying to work her out. "It's fascinating." He nudged her shoulder with his own.
Veronica leaned into him, eager for warmth. With every hour that passed, she was finding herself more and more into him—drawn to him. Without hesitation, Logan put his arm around her shoulders and tucked her in close, leaning his head to one side until it rested against the top of her head. He really was thoughtful. Her ass was only half-frozen thanks to the cardboard buffer. And he'd obviously anticipated making friends or he'd have only brought one deck of cards. She had to admit that she really was having a fantastic time. And if she tilted her head the right way and the wind blew just right, she could just make out the sound of P!nk wafting up Broadway. She closed her eyes, feeling cozy, and imagined the music wafting past them and up the street, fading into just city noises somewhere near Columbus Circle and the park.
"I always want to know what you're thinking," Logan admitted.
Veronica wanted to tell him that she often wondered the same thing about him when he got quiet. Veronica didn't dare tell him about her weird notions of musical dissipation. He'd think she was nuts. She'd let him into the strange inner workings of her mind in a few months when he wouldn't run for the hills.
"Sometimes I think the same thing about you," she admitted. It was safer than answering his question.
"Well if you want to know, just ask me," he told her.
She envied his openness. She'd always blamed her closed off nature on Neptune and the departure of her mother. But Logan clearly had similar issues, and here he was...as open as a book. Veronica decided to call his bluff.
"Okay." She tipped her head to look up at him. "What were you thinking yesterday on the stairs?"
Logan faltered, blushing, his confidence, perhaps, faltering for a moment. It made her even more curious.
"Yesterday on the stairs," he mused, looking out into the distance for a moment as if giving himself time to make something up. It's what she would have done in his place, so she really couldn't blame him. "Honestly?" Logan asked.
Veronica's breath hitched. Was he really going to tell her the truth?
"I was thinking about your smile. And wondering what you were thinking about. And I was jealous and wanted it to be me making you smile that way." He turned and looked her dead in the eye. Unabashed, unashamed. It made her shiver and she felt warmth flood her when he instinctively pulled her in tighter, probably assuming she was cold.
Holy shit.
"How do you do that?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Logan wrinkled his brow, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do what?"
"Just put yourself out there like that. How are you not guarded? Aren't you worried about what I'll think?"
"Veronica, you matched me tit-for-tat the night we met. You don't strike me as the type of person who keeps her thoughts to herself—someone who cares what people think."
Veronica was lost in his eyes. He was right. But he was also so wrong. She did come off that way, and it was mostly true. But with her innerthoughts, she was guarded. She kept them locked away, shrouded in a veil of sarcasm and snark. She kept everyone at arm's length, always ready to bolt if things got uncomfortable. She'd suspected the same was true of him when they'd met, but it wasn't true. Logan put himself out there. He allowed himself to be vulnerable in a way that Veronica couldn't even fathom. She was in awe of him and wanted to be more like him. He was so intense but in the best sense of the word. It was overwhelming. She was overwhelmed. And with that feeling came the ever-present need to deflect. Immediately.
Needing to break the silence, Veronica said the first thing that came to her mind. "I can't believe you called me an elf. And the Grinch!" she laughed. "First impressions really aren't your strong suit."
Logan's steady gaze stayed glued to hers and then he laughed and shook his head. "Sorry about that. I really wasn't myself." He paused for a moment and began fiddling with the cuff of his coat. "Or maybe I was...I get like that sometimes. It's not my favorite facet of my personality. I wish—"
"It's okay," she insisted, taking his hand. "If it makes you feel any better, I spent that evening coming up with elaborate ways to impart my revenge."
"Oh yeah," he flirted, looking straight into her soul. "And what did you come up with?"
Veronica shrugged, breaking eye contact and making sure to keep her words light. "Well, proximity definitely made things easier." Veronica made her eyes go wide. "If only we had connecting balconies," she paused for a moment, pretending to savor a memory, and then she sighed dramatically with a shake of her head. "But alas, I had to be more creative. There was the whole idea of drilling a tiny hole between our apartments and releasing a whole colony of ants." Veronica shrugged. "If I was back home in California, I'd just blend up a concoction of poison oak to rub on your doorknob." She paused for a moment more, loving messing with him. "Unfortunately, Central Park seems to not be conducive to such plans." Veronica gave an over-exaggerated shrug. "There were other, more sinister ideas...the staircase and piano wire might have been involved."
"But poor Mrs. Baxter in 4E," Logan inhaled. "You could have taken her out too."
Veronica nodded solemnly. "Yes, I thought of that. I do love her. Endangering her held me back. You should really thank her. She's the reason you're alive today."
"I'll start braiding a friendship bracelet the second I get home."
Veronica hissed through her teeth. "Yeah, maybe hold off on that...she hates your music too."
Logan chuckled. "Duly noted. Though I still feel like I'll win her over in the end."
"Is that how things work with you?" she questioned, turning to face him. "You piss everyone off and then win them over with your charm?"
Logan looked heavenward, thinking. "No!" he said with a mirthless chuckle. "Not at all. I'd say I have a talent for pissing people off and then using that intel to figure out how to piss them off even more."
That took Veronica by surprise. "Really? I don't see that at all."
"I'm glad." Logan shook his head and then looked down, suddenly studying his shoes intently. "Well, I'm trying something new, you see." He shrugged slightly, almost imperceptibly, and then continued, "For as long as I can remember I've spent so much time fighting what others wanted me to be —thought I would/should/could be—that it kind of got in the way of me finding out who I really was."
"Self-reflection is cathartic," Veronica agreed. "Living alone here has taught me that. The quiet of living alone."
Logan snickered. "I hadn't even thought of that. The music. I think I was drowning myself in noise so I didn't have to...you know, think? Feel?"
"And then I barged in and ruined your whole plan for avoidant coping. Sorry about that," she said, only half genuine.
"No, I'm glad you did. It changed...well, everything." He turned to look her in the eye. "You changed everything. You telling me like it is in a way everyone else is scared to do. And I always thought that changing myself would feel foreign or forced, but this feels like just me. The me I could have been all along. As usual, there is a great woman behind every idiot."
"You really do like John Lennon, don't you?" she asked him.
Logan's eyes twinkled as though he was impressed that she could keep up with him, and it made her feel empowered she could also.
"Not really. Like I said, my mom really was his biggest fan. If Beatles music wasn't playing in the car or house, then she wasn't home!" Logan gave her a long look. "I think the bigger question here is how do you know every John Lennon quote I throw at you?"
"I have a keen—if somewhat annoying—ability to remember everything I've ever heard," she answered. Then she signed and couldn't keep her eyes from rolling. "And my best friend Lilly went through a Beatles phase," Veronica admitted. "I've seen every documentary from start to finish.
Logan smiled at her again and her tummy got gushy...again. She didn't know how much more of his wonderfulness she could withstand without getting moony.
How much longer until midnight, Veronica?
December 31, 11:46 p.m.
"Tell me why are we standing again..." he asked, his arms firmly around her to keep them both warm. "We still have fifteen minutes."
"Because my butt is officially numb and we need to get the circulation flowing or you will have to drag me the hundred blocks home on my pizza box in a seated, cross-legged position."
"Fair point," he admitted, starting to run his hands up and down her arms.
"Are those flurries?" she asked, holding out her hand to catch a tiny snowflake with her gloved hand.
"Looks like," Logan responded. "Now we can just be grateful it's cold enough to snow and not rain."
"Good point! It's at the eleventh hour that I wish they'd filled up these pens more for warmth alone. I feel like we could fit a hundred more people in here," she said, shivering. "Hopefully the adrenaline will kick in soon."
"It's a marble falling, Veronica, I wouldn't count on it."
And then a thought occurred to Veronica. "Wait a minute! You're rich. Couldn't we have been warm in a fancy hotel room somewhere?"
"Yes, but then there would have been less forced cuddling time. The need for warmth trumps all first date jitters."
"Is that what this was—a date?" she asked, pivoting slightly to look into his eyes. They'd been together several hours...cuddling, talking. It had sure felt like a date to her, but she figured putting it all out there was a good step. She'd never been one to keep things subtle.
Logan faltered for a moment, his gaze settled on her chin for a second and then he met her eyes again. "Yes," he answered her. "At least I thought so," he clarified. "You just spent the last eight hours with me in the freezing cold waiting to watch a marble drop."
Veronica let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. They were on the same page, it seemed.
"Is that okay with you?" he asked, pausing and turning toward her, his hands finding her hips and pulling her in. "That it's a date?"
Veronica felt a smile grow on her lips. "Yeah," she told him simply. "Yeah, I like the sound of that." Veronica really wanted to kiss him...New Year's Eve tradition be damned, but something behind her seemed to have caught Logan's attention.
"I'll be right back," he told her as he strode off to one corner of the penned-in block.
Logan returned a few minutes later with glittery glasses that were in the shape of the numbers of the new year.
"I didn't know your favorite color so I went with rainbow," he explained as he handed them over.
She loved them!
Then he put on a pair of his own that were black.
"Black, huh," she admired. "How...festive."
"I think it's a requirement for a New Yorker," he explained, fidgeting with them to push them further up his nose.
"I like it. It suits you," she admitted. "And I get it. I find myself stuck in between two worlds. The New York idea that integrating color into your wardrobe means popping it out with dark grey, and California — the land of flip flops, jean shorts, and hoodies."
"I haven't been to California in ages. Not since…" Logan trailed off, and Veronica knew that he was thinking about his mom. She understood. California reminded her of her dad.
Logan stared at her intently for a moment and then blinked and nodded. "Maybe next year for New Year's Eve we could be warm on a beach with champagne rather than freezing our asses off with the marble." Logan nodded his head in the direction of the Ball.
"Sure!" she sputtered, doing her best to sound cool. "Of course." She hoped she didn't sound desperate. Next year?
After a moment she continued. "It'd be nice to have a reason to go back. Together." Veronica hadn't realized how much she'd wanted to go back to California. The thought had given her so much anxiety, but with Logan, it seemed doable. "I, for one, vote for a summer visit though," she told him. "New York winters are the worst, but the thought of a July day without stickiness and afternoon thunderstorms..." Veronica sighed deeply. "That's living!"
"Fourth of July, too," Logan told her firmly. "I'm in." Then he looked southward toward the lights of Times Square.
Veronica couldn't believe they were making plans for the coming year. It all seemed too good to be true. Had she really just met him two weeks ago? The thought should frighten her. She should feel stifled and tied down. But she didn't. It was odd. And it was wonderful.
Could this really be happening? Did he feel the connection that she was feeling? Could things really, for once in her life, just be this easy? She'd never even dared to hope it was possible. She was from Neptune. Nothing was ever what it seemed. But Logan wasn't from Neptune, and so far almost everything with him had been what it seemed.
"You ready?" he asked her, his eyes bright with excitement.
Veronica, momentarily stuck in her own head, was about to question him when she heard shouting: the sound of hundreds of thousands of people shouting in unison. They were counting down.
"Nine...eight…"
She looked around and saw everyone together. The guys from Mexico and the new friends from Connecticut.
The adrenaline kicked in; suddenly she wasn't cold anymore.
"Seven...six," she looked to Logan.
He was looking back and forth between her and the Marble, his face beaming.
"Five…" he shouted. "Four..."
Her heart soared right along with them.
"Three…"
And right then and there she decided she could be that girl.
"Two…"
She could be the kind of girl that these things happened to—with Logan—if she let herself be.
And she screamed along right with Logan.
"One! Happy New Year!"
Explosions sounded and confetti filled the sky along with streamers and snowflakes and goodness knew what else.
And suddenly everyone around them was kissing. Kissing one another and kissing strangers. Veronica had forgotten about the kissing.
In a whirl of arms and cheers, she was spun around pulled into the arms of all her new friends as they all pulled her into embrace after embrace, laying kisses on her head and cheeks. Momentarily thrown off, Veronica stole a glance at Logan who seemed thoroughly amused by the scene until he was half-tackled by one of the guys in the group. Veronica found herself laughing along with everyone. They cheered and laughed and jumped in the chaos.
Strong arms pulled her from behind. She turned, knowing instinctively that they were Logan's arms. His hands went to her waist as though as though was the most natural thing in the world. Because maybe it was.
"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you," he whispered. Somehow she heard his hushed words over the din and did as she was told. And despite the layers between them, electricity struck Veronica's body as Logan's fingers dug into her slightly as he brought her to him, lowering his head until their lips met.
His lips were soft at first, cautious. But after the initial contact, he tilted his head to the side and took more of her. The kiss deepened. Veronica gasped slightly, which only intensified the connection between them, giving Logan better access to her mouth as his tongue explored her. And then there were more fireworks, explosions and more confetti. She couldn't understand it, but she felt it within and all around her. Someone bumped them hard from behind, knocking them off balance, and Logan pulled away, watching her eyes carefully to make sure she was okay.
Veronica was left breathless and dazed, staring up into his eyes. But then the most amazing thing happened. She didn't panic. She didn't run. She didn't even have to fight the urge to flee. Instead, she leaned in and initiated a kiss, taking the lead as she explored Logan's mouth with her own. His arms left her hips and went around her, pulling her in until their bodies were flush.
They stayed that way for an indeterminable amount of time until the need for oxygen was more overwhelming than the feeling of euphoria from the kiss. She pulled her mouth from Logan's, but she didn't pull away from him, preferring to stay in the circle of his arms for one moment more before reality kicked in.
When she opened her eyes again, she found him studying her. He looked breathless himself and uncharacteristically quiet.
"I knew it would be like that," he finally said. "You and me," he finished. "I don't know how, but I knew."
Veronica wanted to mention that only he would use a John Lennon quote before he kissed her, but she was also overwhelmed and simply nodded.
A moment later, she remembered where they were. "Where are your glasses?" she laughed.
"No idea," Logan answered, chuckling. "Probably wherever yours are," he told her.
Veronica's hand went to her bare face and she giggled.
"Wow," she breathed out after another moment.
"Yeah," he agreed.
Then they were bumped hard again from behind Logan and he tightened his grip on her to steady them both. Logan let her go slightly and then turned to see the crowd of people filing by, not even noticing them stopped in the middle. Everyone was walking north.
"Where did all the barricades go?" Veronica asked, finally taking in their surroundings.
"They're just gone," he said, looking around. "Maybe they take them down while we're all busy counting down."
"Or kissing," she suggested, pretty sure the city could have come down around them and she wouldn't have noticed.
"Manhattan really does never cease to amaze, does it?" he asked.
Veronica shook her head, thinking to how much her life had changed since she'd moved there. She'd become a new person, maybe even a new person who could learn to trust and love.
Logan bent down and picked up their two sets of glasses that were amazingly intact and handed her the rainbow pair.
Veronica smiled. "Maybe we could put them on next year's tree," she suggested. She was surprised at how into their unconventionally decorated tree she'd become. Maybe it was just the thought of a future with Logan...or the fact that a future with Logan didn't give her palpitations as it had in the past.
Veronica had never put much stock in New Year's Eve. New beginnings. But here she was, starting a new year. And if tonight was any indication, it would be an adventure.
"I'd like that," he responded, taking her hand in his as they slipped into the crowd, becoming just two more members of the drove heading north under the cover of still-falling confetti and snow flurries.
