Okaay, so this is definitely fluffy. By all means, bash this if you so choose. But it was fun to write. I have to say, I am SO not anti Christmas. I'm a Christmas lover, with the decorations and the songs. And the COOKIES!!! But it was interesting to write this from the perspective of someone who doesn't like Christmas. I'm sorry I lied when I said that this would be up the week of Christmas. But I just couldn't stop writing it! So it's up now. Thanks a million to everyone who applied, I couldn't have written this without you! Enjoy!

Rudolph Can Bite Me

I zipped up my jeans with a sigh. I was as ready as I'd ever be for another five hours of holiday torture.

I wasn't what you'd call a Christmas person. Sure, my family "celebrated" it, if you can call it that. We weren't religious so we didn't go to church and praise Jesus or whatever Christian people do on Christmas. My parents got a divorce when I was seven, so Christmas Eve meant late night custody arguments over the phone and cold leftover Chinese rather than a cozy fireside gathering and a warm fattening feast(although the chicken balls usually had about ten pounds of fried coating). And my parents discouraged the belief in Santa Clause, and in material possession, so when they were together, their joint present was almost always a sponsorship on my behalf of a starving orphan in Africa instead of the latest Barbie. Thus, December was never really my time of year. I've thought about switching religions since Christmas is so commercial, but that doesn't help. You can't escape it. Besides, now that I'm 25, my childhood behind me, no one should force me to celebrate the holidays.

One problem: my best friend has Christmas spirit coming out of her ears.

I met Trixie when she moved to our school in grade 12. She has invited me to her place every single December 24th since I told her that I wasn't a fan of the holidays. She's determined to convert me. But every year, with her reindeer sweaters and her eggnog and her mistletoe, I'd leave feeling even more vindictive of the season.

And somehow, this year felt worse than ever. Not only was it the usual cheery pukefest, but I was single for the first time in five years and Trixie was trying to set me up. I didn't feel like leaving my bed, Friends DVD and bottomless bag of Doritos, never mind look desirable for a dude wearing too much aftershave. But there was no way I was getting out of this. So I would have to grin and bear it.

So I left my apartment in my black jeans, black t-shirt with the white words "Rudolph can bite me" and ratty corduroy jacket and left for the subway.

Trixie threw open her apartment door and looked down with disdain at the message clearly written on my chest.

"Why aren't I surprised?" she muttered. I looked down at her shirt. It was a knitter red and green sweater, with a Rudolf design and a sparkly red pom-pom for a nose sewn on.

"Why aren't I surprised?" I shot back at her. She opened the door and welcomed me into her apartment. It looked like a department store. There were wintry decorations hanging from every corner and dripping off the walls. I felt like I was in hell. Happy, though, to see a change from the usual Santa's workshop motif. I questioned the theme.

"David's coming," she said, shutting the door. "And you know he's Jewish, so I didn't want him to feel left out." She ushered me into the living room where some of the guests were already there. I looked around. There was Spot, looking like he'd already had too much eggnog; Specs, wearing a Santa hat and staring into space; Boots, entranced by the dancing Christmas tree on the mantle; Crutchy, wrapping tinsel around the bars of his crutch and Racetrack, reading "The Night Before Christmas" and looking confused as hell.

"The girls aren't here yet?" I asked, taking off my jacket and throwing it on the chair with the others. Trixie shook her head.

"They're car pooling. They'll be here soon, though," she said as a new, plastic Christmas song played on the cd player. "Oh, I love this one!" she exclaimed, humming merrily as she rushed off to the kitchen to finish rolling the pigs in blankets. I, meanwhile, sat down on the couch beside Racetrack.

"Having trouble, Race?" I asked. He shook his head, eyes wide.

"I just don't understand how he know's that the mice aren't moving. And what's up with the cap? What's it's purpose? Is it protecting his hair or is it just an accessory?" he asked, quite puzzled. I gave a short laugh and slumped back into the cozy couch. He looked back at me and put down the book.

"How about you? You okay, Clara?" he asked sympathetically. I gave a shrug and he put his arm around me. He knew how tough it was for me; they all did.

It had been a month since my break-up with Jack Kelly. Before we split, we'd been the most stable and reliable thing in our circle of friends. We did everything together: shopped, went to movies, even hung out at home and watched tv. I loved him more than I loved my parents. I'm not exactly the most romantic person in the world, but I'd already imagined what our kids would look like and their names. And then, out of the blue, he dumped me. I think he was looking for a change. We had been together for five years I guess I could have used a change too, but I was perfectly happy with stable and reliable.

I saw from a distance a picture of me and Jack, now adorned with cotton for snow. We looked so together and happy. And, to be honest, fairly attractive. I was wearing a black long sleeved shirt and my shoulder length blonde hair looked really shiny that day. My arms were around Jack's waist and I was beaming happily at the camera. Jack had on a dark green sweater that I'd gotten for him. His arm was around my shoulders and he was looking down lovingly at me. I could see Christmas decorations behind us, which meant that it was taken at one of Trixie's parties. It doesn't matter which one. I'm not sure why I look so happy in the photo, since I'm at a Christmas party, but I can't get over Jack's expression. He looks so happy and in love. How did that go so wrong?

Racetrack followed my gaze to the picture. "I remember that. That was when Jack gave you the ring, right?" he asked. The ring. I'd completely forgotten. That was taken three years ago. Jack and I were on our way to Trixie's, coming back from the movies. We stopped in the park we'd met in and he surprised me with a promise ring. A little high school, but it was so sweet. We kissed in the park with snow falling and it was movie perfect. We were so happy when we got to the party, not even Trixie could bring me down. That is quite possibly my best Christmas memory.

And now it was all over. I looked down at my finger longingly. My ring finger was horribly bare. I wish I hadn't given it back to him when he broke up to me. It was really pretty.

My horribly depressing thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the doorbell ringing and some guests entering and removing coats and wet shoes. I leaned forward to see Blink, Skittery and Mush, all looking a little drunk, coming into the living room.

"Merry Kwanza everyone!" Blink slurred, flopping onto a surprised Race's lap. Make that a lot drunk. Skittery, who was a little better at keeping his intoxication under wraps, sat down next to me and Trixie ran after Mush, who was headed into the kitchen, most likely to "help" her with the mini pizzas.

"Hey Skitz," I said casually. "Are you looking forward to holiday fun as much as I am?"

"Yeah. Yeah," he said distractedly. Okay, he wasn't exactly fit for conversation, but he wasn't falling down giddy. Skitz was actually surprisingly mellow. I wondered if alcohol was the only substance he'd been abusing this evening.

I listened to Trixie chase Mush around the kitchen to stop him from eating the instant mashed potato mix and the fake cheery holiday tunes oozing out of the stereo. The mood in the living room was dead, except, of course, for Blink, opening all the doors of Trixie's homemade advent calender and shouting drunkenly when he found all of them empty. I hoped desperately for someone to arrive and an angel in the form of my friends came to the door.

Trixie appointed Boots as the drunken one's bodyguard and rushed to answer the door. My friends, all cheering and smiling and singing, burst through the door. They entered the living room one by one.

Kathy came in first, her fiery red hair damp from the melting snow. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and she was taking off a long, striped scarf. Kathleen's a few years older than me, 28, and surprisingly small for her age. Thin and short, she's also very pretty. She has longish red curls and blue grey eyes. We've been great friends for a pretty long time, I guess since we bonded in high school over our love of Harry Potter and Disney. She's really immature and acts half her age, laughing at funny words and such, but she's also really smart, got awesome grades in high school and listens to retro rock and punk. Kathy loves Christmas, with the atmosphere and everything. She tries to keep it down for me, though, since she knows I hate it when people try to convince me that I like Christmas. I gave her a hug and she sat down next to Spot, laughing at something he whispered in her ear.

"Hey Kath, where's Christian?" Race called out from the punch table.

"He had to work late, unfortunately," she said, talking about her boyfriend Christian. I was about to ask why when I was distracted by Danielle coming into the living room. She was shaking the water out of her longish, dirty blonde curls.

Dani's really tall(she's six feet and she towers over poor little ol' me) and her chocolate brown eyes recently changed to green thanks to the help of coloured contacts. She's also older than me, I think 27, and a self described hopeless romantic. She's quite loyal to us all, even those of us she hasn't known very long. I've known her for about as long as I've known Kathy. They were great friends before I met them and they still are. She's a drama queen and highly impatient, but also a real softie. She likes Christmas as well, although she often complains about never having a boyfriend when it counts(ie. the holidays). She mostly spends it with her family, but this year her parents were on vacation, so she came here instead.

"Hey Dani!" I said, standing up to hug her. She threw her arms around me, her wet hair dampening my face.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" she called out merrily to the whole living room, greeted with silence. She shrugged and sat on the edge of Crutchy's arm chair. I turned to sit down, but was interrupted.

"Feliz Navidad, Clara!" a quiet voice said in my ear.

"Bronwyn, have you been watching Christmas specials again?" I asked jokingly.

"Of course!" she said, laughing, and hugged me.

Bronwyn's also tall, about 5"7 I'd say. She has shoulder length, curly black hair that I'm horribly jealous of and beautiful green eyes. She has a scar next to her left eye that very few of us know come from tripping over herself(I have an identical one next to right eye from a glass ceiling light cover falling on my head). She was generally very shy and often mistaken for stuck up. She's pretty normal around us, her friends, but she always clams up around others. She has a big imagination and lives in her own little world. She often drift away during a group discussion, but we know by now not to disturb her. She wasn't religious, but loves Christmas anyway. She often gets caught up in the lights and the music. She always talks about how beautiful it is in December and thus is another eager Christmas party goer.

Bronwyn, ever the shy type, sat in the chair nearest me. She didn't know any of the guys very well and I could tell she was trying to figure them out. She tends to people-watch a lot and it looked like she was sizing them up.

Alissa came in next and greeted me with yet another hug. It seemed like since I broke up with Jack I got a lot of hugs. Alissa was the cute one of our group: short and thin, with icy blue eyes light brown hair that almost reached her shoulders. She was 28, and still looked like she was 17. She's pretty quiet, raising her voice only when to be heard or yell at someone. She, like me, is sarcastic and sometimes rude(but in a good way). She's a pessimist and the only other person who isn't enthusiastic about Christmas. She doesn't quite see the point in it and often joins with me in despising the annual Christmas parties. She often writes in her journal. I have no idea what she says in there: she could be writing the great American novel or drawing little doodles. She won't let anyone read anything she's written. She's quick to become annoyed and despises being called cute or sweet("I'm 28, for God's sake, I stopped being cute when I started being old enough to drink!"). She hugged a couple of other people before making her way to the table with the alcoholic drinks.

Following her was my friend Colleen. We met in high school and she is just about the hard-corest(if that's a word) person there is. She has short, chin length deep red hair that reminds me of flapper hair and hazel eyes. She's got a large "bust" as she calls it(personally, the word makes me laugh. But then, I'm horribly immature) and curses it regularly. Her skin has definitely cleared up since high school and I love her bright pink Jem t-shirt to death, which she happened to be wearing at that moment. And of course, she was wearing her trademark charm bracelet, pigtails, Converse shoes and thick-rimmed glasses. Colleen has a complex personality, so let me abbreviate it for you: she's a strong believer of the paranormal and what she calls "psychic sciences", or what the rest of us know as astrology. She has a bit of a temper, and hates to be proved wrong, but is generally a nice person. She confuses the hell out of most of us when she quotes all the movies and plays we haven't seen and books we haven't read, but those of us who are in on the jokes laugh along with her. She's another Christmas lover, although she feels that it has "strayed far from the true meaning". She gave me a hug and sat in the chair next to Bronwyn.

"Hey everyone," Jade said in a cheerful voice, a wreath of tinsel wrapped around her head. Jade had long, thick brown hair, tied back in it's usual ponytail. Her big blue eyes looked the same as they always did: stoned. Not that she was a stoner...to my knowledge. She's extremely passionate, which has been her undoing in the past. She has a slight stutter that keeps her from speaking in long sentences and paragraphs(like me). She also loves Christmas(geez, which of my friends don't?), but is a fan of the "gimme gimme" side of it, as I like to call it.

Finally, Alison came into the room, shaking the water of her shoes, much to Trixie's dismay. I haven't known Alison for very long, or Bookworm as some of the guys call her. Even if I had known her for a long time, I doubt I could tear her away from a book long enough to actually talk to her. Sometimes, if you listen very closely, you can hear her singing under her breath. She joins the others in the adoration of Christmas and always gets excited around this time of year. We exchanged hellos as she looked around for a place to sit, then gave up and leaned against a wall.

Almost everyone was there. I counted the people: 15, not including myself and Trixie. I thought of the people left to arrive and could only think of David. I wonder why he's so late, I thought. It wasn't like him to not be prompt. Finally, the doorbell rang and I could hear David's voice, mingling with Trixie's voice and...someone else's.

Oh no. She didn't invite him. Did she? Is it really him? I listened more closely. Yes, it was definitely him. Oh dear God. What was I going to do? I froze on the spot as Jack Kelly, accompanied by his best friend, David Jacobs, strode into the room.

He looked a little thinner than the last time I'd seen him. Damn him and his insane metabolism. He surveyed the room, clearly looking forward to this evening as much as I was. His eyes fell on me and I instantly shrivelled under his gaze. It was intense, but unreadable. Did he hate me or was he regretting breaking up with me? I decided to shake it off and turn my attention back to Race and the Night Before Christmas.

"See, Race, abreast has nothing to do with boobs," Specs was explaining, his Santa hat leaning on a dangerous angle. Race giggled.

"You said boobs," he said, sounding more like a second grader than a 29 year old casino owner. I rolled my eyes.

"Time for some alcohol," I said under my breath as I joined Alissa at the punch bowl. She looked like she'd had a couple. I poured myself a glass and leaned against the table.

"Looking forward to holiday fun?" I asked.

"If she comes near me with reindeer antlers again, I'm decking her," she muttered, referring to Trixie. I laughed and downed my punch. I turned to fill my glass again when I heard someone whispering in my ear.

"Happy Hanukkah," David said. I turned back to him, smiling.

"Happy Hanukkah to you too, sir," I said. David smiled and gave me hug. I love David. David's one of my best friends and generally a cool guy, albeit a kind of nerdy. He introduced me to Jack too. Argh. I hate him! I made conversation with David as Trixie gathered everyone to the main "living area".

"Okay, guys, thanks for coming and may I say, merry Christmas!" she exclaimed perkily, her ponytail tied with sparkly Christmas ribbon bobbed.

"Merry Christmas!" chimed a group of happy voices.

"Merry Christmas," said another group, including me, dully.

"Happy Hanukkah!" David chirped on his own.

"So we had a lot of food, until Mush got in there," she said, glaring at Mush. He gave a guilty shrug. "We've still got a lot, although, no more food for Mush. I've also organized a couple of games to play and there's lots of music, so let's...have fun!" She turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen. The rest of us sat, some on couches and some on the floor, in silence.

"Anyone up for Jenga?" David said, breaking the silence. The group laughed as Trixie returned with a tray of pizza rolls and a pad of paper.

"Alright, dig in, guys!" she said, placing the try on the coffee table. Everyone leaned forward and immediately started digging in. The pizza rolls were gone in a matter of seconds. Trixie looked down with dismay at the empty plate. "Okay, we've still got the game," she said. "Christmas Carol Pictionary!" she said. Weak smiles emitted from maybe two of the guests. The rest of us gave her a look. "What? It's Pictionary! Everyone loves Pictionary." she said.

I can't handle this, I thought. Trixie looked around. "What is wrong with you all? You don't like games?" she asked, looking a little sad.

"Look, Trixie," Danielle said. "I love Christmas as much as you do. But come on. We're all in our late twenties. Can we just talk or something?" The rest of us nodded.

"Yeah, I had a rough day. I'm not exactly in the mood for Christmas carols," Boots agreed. More nods. Trixie sighed.

"Fine, I give up. Do whatever you want. I'll get cookies," she muttered.

"Yes! Death to the Rudolph sweater!" Alissa cried. We all looked at her. "What? Like you weren't thinking it?"

I sat on a kitchen chair, munching on a Santa cookie. I must admit, I love Christmas cookies. Who doesn't, though? I mean, they're cookies! I could hear Trixie moving trays, taking things out of the oven and freezer, setting times on the microwave.

"I'm really sorry Jack's here," she said above the noise. "But David called an hour before the party and asked if he could come. And you know how I am with confrontation. I can't say no!"

"No wonder you're not a virgin anymore," I mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. I could feel her glaring at me.

"Shut up. At least I didn't lose it to Henry Johnson at the prom," she sneered. She had a point.

"You could have at least warned me," I said, washing down the cookie with a glass of milk. Trixie turned off the tap and sat down beside me, drying her hands.

"Then you wouldn't have come," she said, leaning over and taking a cookie off my plate.

"That would be the point," I said and snatched the cookie back from her. She smiled at me and stood up again, going back to the sink.

"Anyway, you can totally make him jealous. I'm setting you up, remember?" she said, ponytail bouncing. I choked on my cookie.

"Crap, I almost forgot. Please don't set me up, Trix, I don't want a boyfriend right now," I said, trying to appeal to the sympathetic girl in her. It didn't work.

"Yes, you do. I can tell," she said. "So you better start behaving." She'd kill me if I told her she sounded like her mom.

"Fine. When's he getting here?" I asked, brushing crumbs off my lap and standing. She looked at me.

"He's already here," she said, sounding kind of surprised. "You knew it's David, right?" I gasped in horror.

"Are. You. Serious?" I asked, horrified. David? ......David? DAVID?!

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly. "You two would be a great couple. Plus, I think he has a thing for you." I nearly died.

"Trix, I can NOT hit on David. I mean, he's...he's DAVID! With the sweater vests and the grammar correction? Dear God, no!!!" I whispered urgently so David wouldn't hear. She shook her head.

"Fine, don't hit on him. Don't make Jack jealous," she said. I shook my head.

"You didn't tell him, did you," I asked, panicky. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course not. I'm not that dumb," she said scornfully. "Help me with the shrimp salsa dip." I blinked at her.

"You're giving up that easily? No fights?" I asked hopefully. She snorted.

"You obviously don't know me very well, Clara. You know I don't give up," she scoffed. "All I can say is, prepare yourself. I am going to do everything short of pulling your tongue out of your mouth, prying his mouth open and sticking your tongue in it." And she swept out of the kitchen, pasting on a grin over her war paint. I stood there in shock. This was going to be the worst Christmas Eve ever.

That night was horribly embarrassing. Trixie arranged everyone so I had to sit next to David. She talked us into sharing a plate(how she did that, I'll never know). She even managed to get us to perform "Baby, It's Cold Outside" together(don't ask). Both David and I were incredibly uncomfortable and the other guests could sense it.

"How much do you want to die right now," Alison leaned over and whispered in my ear. She was sitting on the other side of me.

"Like you wouldn't believe," I whispered back. Although I was enjoying the shrimp salsa dip, I hated going through this. It was painfully obvious Trixie was trying to keep me and David together, and me and Jack as far away from each other as possible. He was at such an odd angle, I couldn't even see him without leaning far forward.

"Hey! Who wants to watch 'It's A Wonderful Life'?" Colleen suddenly exclaimed. There were a few agreements and Trixie stood up to put in the movie. I excused myself: Christmas movies make me sick.

I sat down on the bed in what used to be my room. I lived with Trixie for about a year before Jack and I bought an apartment together. When we broke up, he moved in with David and I stayed where I was. I'd thought about moving back in with Trixie a bit, since it gets kind of lonely, but I hadn't brought it up with her yet.

I looked around the room, remembering what the room used to look like: messy, the floor coated with discarded clothes and empty cracker and cereal boxes. The walls were plastered with posters of my favourite actors, bands and movies. The small, black and white tv still sat in the corner. I fell back on the bed, recalling all the times Jack had been here. The things we'd done and talked about in here. What's wrong with me? Why can't I get Jack out of my head? I thought angrily. Suddenly, the door opened and Jack towered above me.

"Oh, sorry. I'll go somewhere else," he said, starting to close the door.

"Well, you could stay if you want," I said casually. For some reason, I really wanted him to stay. He obliged and sat down. The bed sagged beneath our weight. He started humming an unrecognizable song.

"Um, Jack? Can I ask you a really awkward question? Why did you break up with me?" I asked, surprised at my sudden honesty and courage. He looks a little surprised.

"Um, wow. I guess.." he sighed and scratched the stubble growing on his chin."Fuck, I'm just gonna say it." He stood up and motioned for me to do the same. My jeans chaffed in a very uncomfortable place. I longed for my comfy sweat pants at home. He positioned me so I was facing him.

"Alright. I was an idiot. I loved you a lot, Clara. Remember that day in the park that I gave you the promise ring? Those were the things I lived for. But after a while, I got restless. You know me, I like change. And I wanted to experience some different things...and different girls, if I'm being honest," he said, and paused. I nodded.

"Right. Yeah. I understand," I said, mildly hurt. I began to back away.

"No! I'm not done!" he said, exasperated. We were even closer now. "So I moved in with David and started dating. But it was nothing like I thought it would be. I thought I'd have dozens of girls to date. I thought I'd be nineteen again. It was awful though. I swear, I dated the weirdest girls ever in that month. Of course, I dated a lot of really hot girls. But, none of them compared to you," he said, looking into my eyes. "They all looked like you to me." He pulled me a little closer. "I heard your voice everywhere." His face was inches from mine. "All I want is you, Clara." And in that moment, Christmas regained all the magic it had when I was young and naive.

It wasn't exactly romantic, reuniting in my old room, with 'It's A Wonderful Life' playing in the other room. But it was a great night nonetheless. We kissed for a long time in my old room and when we finally emerged, everyone else looked at us knowingly. Of course, we weren't the only ones in the romantic mood. Shockingly, when I opened the kitchen door, I found Trixie leaning against the counter, making out madly with David.

"Trixie!" I exclaimed, shocked. They broke away, Trixie looking guilty, David looking pleased.

"What? You didn't want him," she said. I laughed as Jack and David did a weird guy hand thing.

And eventually, everyone started to leave. Jack and I were a little busy catching up after one month, so I didn't get much of a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Finally, Trixie shoved us out the door. David, I noticed, was the only one not being forced to leave.

Jack and I climbed down the stairs and stumbled out into the snowy street, laughing and joking and occasionally leaning over to kiss one another. We stopped in the same park and sat down on a bench, not bothering to brush off the snow.

"I love you, Clara," Jack said and kissed me again, slipping the promise ring back on my finger as we kissed.

I think I might have to change my attitude about Christmas.

Did you like? I personally do not believe this is my best work(I like my other story much better), but it was so much fun to write. Fluff is great to write occasionally. Don't anyone worry, this isn't going to be a permanent writing style. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. If anyone wants to get me a Christmas present, you can write a me-Jack story. Hint, hint. Sorry. Love you all!!!

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