Fanfiction

So, like, I'm supposed to talk about Christmas.

Like, what it means to me, or whatever. I guess this will be pretty short because it doesn't mean that much actually. I mean, not when you consider it's a Christian holiday and I'm, like, Jewish. Of course, it's not like my parents celebrate Hanukkah, either. They aren't exactly *into* holidays. They use the vacation days to work on whatever their latest dissertation is.  Or to spend some alone time.  Which I do *not* want to think about at all.  Not that I, you know, *care* about holidays.

Because I don't.

I mean...not much.

Last Christmas they went on a cruise.  Alone time again.  Of course, they're not really alone.  They're together.  Maybe they mean it's alone time for me. They'll probably go on another trip this year. It's, like, this *custom* all of a sudden. Like when I wasn't looking, they went and started this tradition or something. I could go to my sister's, or if I asked I bet they'd even take me along.  But I'll never ask.  I mean, it's not like they'd notice if I actually went with them.  If I'm going to be alone on a big ship full of strangers, I guess I'd rather be alone here.  Like in my own room.  Besides, there's always the chance that Angela might need me to--

Okay.

I am *not* going to talk about Angela Chase. This is about *Christmas*.  Angela Chase has nothing to do with Christmas. She has nothing to do with anything. I mean...I mean...I'm not saying that she's nothing. She is like the exact *opposite* of nothing. I just mean...oh never mind.

I don't have a lot of time to waste on this. So I'll just pick a some things I like about Christmas and some things I don't and a memory and be done with it. Because then I'll be done and I can get back to something important. Like calculus. I cannot believe those two, um, people actually talked me into doing this. I mean I wouldn't be doing this at all if that short blond girl hadn't looked so pitiful. I actually felt, like, *guilty* saying no.

I like some things about Christmas.  People seem to need me.  I like being helpful, I guess.  Cherski always has some crazy scheme going that she needs help with.  And a couple of times now I got to help Angela's Dad hang the lights on their house.  Angela's Dad is pretty nice.  He actually looks at me when he speaks to me.  And he seems to smile a lot.  Not *too* much.  Just the right amount.  And he talks *to* me.  Not *at* me.

We don't do any decorating at our house.  But maybe you'd guessed that.

The one thing I *hate* about Christmas, more than anything else, would have to be mistletoe.  It's just ...too much pressure or something.  And they always put it where you can't help but go near it.  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if there was actually anyone who wanted to kiss me.  Or if I had a clue how to go about doing that.  Being the one in *charge* of the kiss.  But I don't.  I always just have this urge to grab the mistletoe down from where it s hanging and eat it, because I hear that mistletoe is poisonous.  But with my luck it wouldn't act quickly enough to stop me from turning red.

My best Christmas memory is from a long time ago.  Back when my family used to hang around with the Cherskis...and the Chases...Christmas was actually fun. There was this one time when I was...ten? Nine?  I can't remember exactly. But I can, like, check if it's important or whatever.

Anyway, we were all at Angela's house. We ate this huge dinner that Mr. Chase made and I started to feel, you know, kind of sick. So Angela, Sharon, and I were playing some board game and I, um, threw up.  Which was *completely* humiliating, but my parents came and actually, like, *looked* at me. Mrs. Chase put me on the couch with this big quilt that was really soft. The kind of quilt some distant relative probably made by hand or something about 80 years ago. Cherski and Angela came and sat on either side of me. We had hot chocolate and watched some Christmas cartoon.  Something about...a Grinch? I' m not sure. My parents never really let me watch TV very much.

But even though my stomach hurt...I was happy. Like, really happy. I felt, like, warm. Not because of the quilt, but because I was with my friends.  You know...back when they *were* my friends. But I guess lately things have been a little better. Cherski is always bugging me about something, and sometimes Angela looks at me *without* her patented Look of Disgust. So maybe this Christmas will be okay.  No matter where my parents go.

Maybe I can find out what that cartoon was. And, you know, watch it again.

Or something.