The next day was New Year's Eve. Before that evening, Jonas and Charity covered art and some religion. Jonas found himself completely enjoying the art; he enjoyed it even more than the music. The way people used colors to make you see what they were seeing intrigued him.
"Well, your first test is coming, Jonas," Scott said at dinner.
"Test?"
"How well you can fit into society," Scott explained. "We're all going to a New Year's party this evening. It's just family, so it's a good first step for you."
"I thought your cousins were your only family?"
"It's my family," Barbara said.
"Oh." Jonas stared down at his plate.

"You're not gonna have any trouble," Matt said. Jonas looked up quickly; he hadn't spoken with Matt ver much, even though he was wearing Matt's old clothes. "You think on your feet."

"What did Matt mean by 'thinking on my feet'?" Jonas asked Charity as they were walking out to the car.
"He meant you can come up with answers quickly. If anyone asks you something difficult about where you're from or anything."
Jonas thought for a moment. "You mean lie," he said in a flat voice.

"Yes." Charity glanced at him in the porch light. "We have no choice, Jonas." She sounded exasperated.
"I know."

So Jonas lied. His listened to Barbara lie to her parents and her brothers and sisters about where Jonas came from and who he was. He listened to Scott lie about picking him up at the airport. He listened to Charity lie about Jonas' luggage being lost. The luggage wasn't lost. Jonas was.
Not that there weren't bright spots in the evening. For one, Jonas finally figured out what middle names were for when Charity's aunt was scolding her daughter.
"Angela Marie Thomas, get over her right now." Jonas smiled. He could hear his next-door neighbor telling her son, "Sixteen, come back and put away your bicycle!" He also found that he liked shrimp; Barbara made him try some.
"It's for good luck in the coming year," she said.
But the best part of all was the countdown to midnight. On TV, a big, lit sphere was dropping in some city square, as the family around him chanted, "Ten... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one! Happy New Year!" And they yelled and laughed and made as much noise as possible, going outside and beating pots and pans with wooden spoons, and someone set off a firecracker. Then, Jonas saw Scott nudge Charity, and she began to sing out in the cold, dry air of the New Year:
"Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne?"
She sang the whole way through the song, all five verses of it, her sweet and steady voice lending the odd words meaning and feeling, and the rest of the family joined in on the chorus, even Jonas—
"We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne."

"What did that song mean?" Jonas asked Charity in the car on the way home.
"It's about looking at the past and remembering old friends and the good old days," she answered, craning her neck to see the stars out the window. "A man and his friend meet and talk about the 'old long since'. Bittersweet."
Bitter-sweet. It's a good word, Jonas thought, watching the snow glowing in the moonlight. Happy and sad, truer than either alone.