Holly Winslow carried her New Year's gift back to her bedroom. Glancing out the window, she watched the car gradually leave the village and huffed softly, "Jerk."
At 5:20 on New Year's morning, Mortimer Quincy made a post: *The nth year, with many more to come. Happy New Year.*
He attached a picture—the same one Holly Winslow had taken.
Zeke Zane, who had been gaming all night, began to suspect he was fated to be force-fed PDA. How else could he be the first to witness Mortimer Quincy's public display of affection at this ungodly hour?
"Fuck."
For some reason, he was reminded of his chat history with Anna Willow.
He'd finally worked up the nerve to send someone a "Happy New Year" message on his own initiative. *Ahem.* In the past, he'd always thought this kind of thing was incredibly lame.
Anna Willow replied a few minutes later: *Rookie, this mass text has zero finesse. You could've at least added an emoji or two. It's so lifeless.*
Such disdain.
He: ...
