“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?” Rachel presses, tucking her tablet into her backpack and zipping it closed. “For the hundredth time, yes,” I reply with a groan. “Because it would only take a phone call to arrange it,” she adds. “Plane ticket, hotel, box seats—the works. New Year’s Eve in the Big Apple.” “As fun as that sounds, I really think I just need to take a minute and…regroup.”
