One million, eight-hundred thousand years

11:43 p.m., December 31, 1999 A.D.: Jessica takes another sip of her champagne glass. She's careful to leave a little, to down when the clock strikes midnight. God, when's Mark coming back?

11:47 p.m., December 31, 1999 A.D.: She's trapped in Soho, her back pinned against the bar as she waits for Mark to get back from saying hello to whoever he had to say hello to. She wonders suddenly what her mom's doing in Iowa City tonight, and considers calling her.

11:52 p.m., December 31, 1999 A.D.: To her right, Mark's friends are talking amongst themselves, yelling over the din. Jessica scans the crowd for Mark's red hair, alternately caring and not caring what she looks like, standing by the bar alone, this close to midnight.

11:56 p.m., December 31, 1999 A.D.: Jessica considers stepping outside and calling her mom. She reaches in her bag and brushes her fingertips against the smooth plastic of her cell phone, anxiously glancing up at the clock.

12:00 a.m., January 1, 2000 A.D.