(There will be two chapters this week, another one on Sunday, because I won't be posting next week since my exams will be already starting on Thursday and won't finish until the next week)

<The Victoria Chase POV>

Hi, bitches. It's Christmas. That means it's time for me to wrap myself in ribbon and lie under Mark's Christmas tree. My acts of kindness as bringing him breakfast in bed was only met with questions like 'how did you get into my house' and 'is my kitchen on fire'. But this year is my lucky year, the year that bitch Rachel failed her geometry test. Last year, I saw her at midnight, trying to wish Mark a merry Christmas on exactly the 25th, which was so fucking stupid because I was already in the house. Get on my level.

But it's also time to get into the festive spirit and I will be your present. That is the most expensive thing you've ever gotten in your miserly lives, anyway.

This year's Christmas all began the moment I pulled out the name from a hat for Christmas kindle, aka secret Santa aka buy presents for someone that does not deserve to be happy...aka Rachel Amber. I'm a perfectionist, so I obviously had to get her a better present than one she would ever get anybody else. I never spoke to her, she tried but I will never succumb to that failure prostitute. No disrespect to actual prostitutes, you're cool, Rachel drools.

Taylor suggested I'd invite her over or out to find out what she likes, but I knew that was a stupid idea, just like the idea of Taylor's parents to have a kid. But Courtney was having none of it. She came in crying the other day, telling Principal Wells that I make fun of her all the time, which I obviously don't.

<the other day>
"Hey Victoria! I'm ready to go sneak into--"
"You look like a story teller and I can't stand it."
Courtney left to change.
"Okay what--"
"I cannot cross campus with you while you look like a thief."
Courtney left to change.
"What the fuck are you wearing?"
"It's a skirt, Victoria."
"Change it. Your whiteness is blinding me."
Courtney left to change.
"Is this fine?"
"Why do your eyebrows look like Psy's popularity in English society?They go up then down then a little up again then straight down."
<fin>

Eyebrows were something personal to Courtney, it was the last straw. She did come back after a few seconds though, unfortunately. Her and Taylor were going to create and accomplish a plan to destroy Rachel Amber with the most Christmas spirit shit ever.
_____________________________________
Step one: invite her over to be all friendly and crap.
_____________________________________

Step one didn't seem hard, right? With three people working on it, we were gonna ace it...but Rachel was getting suspicious, and it wouldn't be the same if she just straight up told us what she wanted for Christmas. Usually, if she was really fidgety, I'd suppose she's trying to get with my Mark--Mister Jefferson. What a skank, get your own man. But thanks to a Christmas miracle, I am forced to be nice to her. Today, she was coming to my room. What the fuck.

An hour before her visit was scheduled, things were getting crazy. Taylor was getting especially frustrated.

"The bed is not made? Throw it away, it's too late to make it now!"

"I want this place looking like Disney on ice in one minute!"

"I want these pillow looking like microwave popcorn!"

"The state of the couch! We cannot let Rachel know we sit!"

"Push in the chair, there cannot be any sign of LIVING IN THIS ROOM!"

We did too much preparation for that junkie. Finally, she had arrived at the door.

"Rachel?" I began, totally smoothly, opening the door for her. "Oh, you're here. Totally wasn't expecting you," totally........smooth. She only giggled. Umm????bich what.

"We scheduled this, Victoria," she reminded playfully, walking into the room like she owned the damn place. We ironed the curtains, I bet she didn't appreciate that.

"I appreciate that you ironed the curtains. Was that for my arrival?" Maybe Rachel does have some respect for me, but bitch you wish I ironed curtains just for you. S.M.H.

"Whatthefuckever, I just have some spare time," I looked at my nails.

"To iron curtains?"

"Yes."

"You're a very interesting person," I am uncomfortable. What is she, flirting? Get out of my room right now.

"Pfft, I know," she giggled again. I do not want to give her anything anymore. I bet she only came here for my cookies. She thinks that if we get real tight I will leave them to her as my will, I can feel it in my Chanel tramp stamp. But I've got news for you, asshole. I've rigged the cookies with C4, so when I go, they go. I sat on the edge of my bed.

"Did you invite me over for some reason, or...?" Rachel trailed off. I shrugged casually.

"Just...whatever."

"Tell me about yourself," hold up. Isn't it me meant to be asking that? I do not appreciate her being nosey and asking me stuff about me. As much as I did like talking about myself, that wouldn't be happening with Rachel.

Yet it only took her like, five minutes to get me relaxed into the conversation. Only half an hour to get me laughing aloud, and our shoulders brushing against each other. Now I knew what I would be getting her, and that was all the information I needed. And holy fuck the gift was expensive, ain't no way I'm keeping it a secret that I spent almost half a hundred thousand on a Christmas present for that bitch.

<le chosen day>

A little card came with the box that held Rachel's gift. She gingerly opened it.

'Merry Christmas, slut - V'

Rachel furrowed her brows, but then her eyes widened.

"V for Victoria?"

"V for Vagina."

Mark Jefferson was not (the only one) I was banging this Christmas.