By Star
Taz's POVI sigh as Maya rummages through my bag. I take a seat on her bed and force myself not to start picking things up, I'll only break them.
"Ah-ha!" She says triumphantly, holding three paintbrushes aloft. She gives me a warning look, then goes back to poking around in my bag.
She's still pissed off about the Christmas tree. I couldn't help it, Charlie and I had just watched Gremlins and if that doesn't put you in the holiday mood, what will? In case you were wondering, Charlie and I were cheering on the Gremlins… in Irish.
And it really wasn't my fault, Maya should have been in our room when I got back. I think she was out with Adam learning how to beat things with a hockey stick.
Maya sighs deeply as she pulls out a couple of tubes of oil paint. It's odd, I very rarely use oils. I'm not lying when I tell her I don't know how they got there.
"Taz, honey. I love you dearly, but please don't paint on my walls." She tells me in a very firm tone, pulling out yet more art supplies.
"I promise I won't. But I can't help it. At home I'm allowed to."
It's true. Each of my four walls at home have a mural on them. One is based on Lord of The Rings, (pre-movie), one covered in butterflies and roses, the next is Sleeping Beauty and the final one is covered in drawings of my friends.
The ceiling is divided in half, one half is the sky by night with a big sleepy moon smiling down kindly with a little man sitting on him, the other is by day with big fluffy clouds and a smiley sun.
I've drawn a tree in each corner, the branches stretching out along the top of the wall and painted the roots onto my plain wood flooring, surrounded by flowers, fairy rings and toadstools. There are pixies, fairies and leprechauns running around the bottom of the walls, getting into all kinds of mischief.
It kind of intense when you walk in there, it gives my aunt a headache, but Maya loves it.
Whenever I got bored I'd just add something else to it, but I keep forgetting I'm not allowed to do that at school. Doubly so at Maya's house.
She finally finishes going through my stuff and hands me a sketch book and a pencil. "Can I trust you to only use the sketch book?"
I grin and not. "I promise. I'll be on my best behaviour."
"Good. Stay here while I go and hide all this art stuff."
I flop back on Maya's bed. I love her room, it's so calm compared to mine. And so big compared to our dorm at school.
Christmas here will be fun. I get on ok with her parents. They think I'm a little odd, but everyone thinks that.
I called my Dad before I left, told him I wasn't going home for Christmas. He was mad, but Maya told me he'd only get madder if I saw him. And she's right.
But as always, I'm focusing on the positive. I'm spending Christmas with my girl, and that's the best present of all.
Speaking of… I check my bag. Yes, I did remember to pack her present, and it's still wrapped up, so she doesn't know what it is.
This is our second Christmas together. I can't believe she's put up with me for so long, then again, the day she met me, she knew what she was getting herself into…
~~~~~~~
I sigh and pick up the paintbrush. This is horribly unfair. It wasn't my fault.
There's a knock at the door, "Come in!" I yell over the music.
A pretty girl with brown hair and strange orange streaks enters the room. She gives me a look of confusion and tentatively asks, "Are you Taryn McDonald?"
"No." I tell her firmly, paining the wall and splattering the two of us with cream paint. What is it with schools, why can't they paint dorms with interesting colours?
"You're not Taryn McDonald?" She attempts to wipe the paint off, but only makes it worse.
"No, I'm Taz McDonald." I tell her. "I don't answer to Taryn. Who are you?"
"I'm Maya Hansen, your roommate. And I have to ask, why are you painting the wall?"
I sigh and dip my brush in the paint can. "It's a long and involved story, and I have to finish this wall before the inspection in two hours. So, you have two options, you can either pick up a brush and help me paint and I'll tell you, or you can disappear and leave me to finish in peace."
"Are you always so rude?" She snaps, but picks up a paintbrush and joins me.
"Yes." I tell her. "To new people I am."
"Has it occurred to you that we're going to be sharing a room for the next year and you should at least make an effort the first time we meet?"
"It occurred to me." I concede. "But then I got in a bad mood when I was told to repaint the wall, and I just couldn't be bothered."
"So, why are we repainting the wall?" She asks.
"Because I drew a Cheshire Cat on it…" I'm embarrassed to admit this part. "I, uh, watched Alice In Wonderland yesterday."
She laughs at me. "That's your 'long and involved' story?"
I glare at her. "Well, sod off then!"She flicks paint at me. I'm shocked.
"You're so rude!" She tells me, but she's laughing.
"Well, you're not making much of an impression either!" I flick paint back at her.
Two hours later the room is covered in dripping paint. Our parents have been called. We're on detention for life.
And I'm very glad that Maya Hansen is my new roommate.
~~~~~~~
"So what did you get me?" She asks me eagerly.
We're sitting by the Christmas tree in her parents living room. It's two minutes past midnight and officially Christmas day.
"Who says I got you anything?" I reply with a grin.
"Charlie. He threatened me. He said that if I didn't like what you bought me he was going to kill us both."
I snort, I guess he's still sore over being kicked out of all those stores with me.
"In that case…" I hand her the present. You'd think if I can draw the way I do I'd be able to wrap a gift properly, but I can't. So I asked Charlie for help and he was worse than me. He held the paper in place while I attacked it with a whole roll of sticky tape.
Maya gives me a look and reaches for the scissors that she knew she'd need when faced with a gift from me.
"Hey, where's my present?" I ask.
She grins and hands me a tiny present and a big squashy one. I open the big squashy one first. It's a Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. At times she reads my mind.
She opens her gift. It's not quite as poignant as her gift to me, but I know it's what she wanted. A pair of satin shortie pyjamas. Inside them is a picture I drew of the two of us.
I open the small gift. It's jewellery, I know that much. Inside a the velvet box is a silver butterfly pendent.
"I thought it would keep you going until they appear again." She says in a shy tone that I very rarely get to hear.
"It's beautiful." I tell her. "Thank you."
"And you. I love the picture, and I'm going to feel all slinky wearing these tonight." She holds up the PJ top to herself.
"I love you, Hansen." I tell her.
"You're not so bad yourself, McDonald. I probably love you too."