Breeze (The Mighty Queertet: Story 3)

Chapter 29: *shrug* aka Bring May Flowers by Star

Dedicated to: Vic, for her wonderful idea for the title of this chapter! This is how this chapter got titled:

Star: Argh, trying to think of a title for the Taz chapter!
Vic: *shrug*
Star: Nice input!
Vic: Breeze Chapter 29 : “*shrug*” Great title!
Star: Sod it! Let’s do it!

Taz’s POV
Right. Maya’s pissed. Time to say something fantastically brilliant. A winning argument. A moment of true Taz clarity.

“Minx, we’re probably going to be in this room next year anyway, what’s the big sodding deal?

Or I could just repeat the same thing I’ve been saying for half an hour.

“What’s the big deal?” She repeats incredulously and I take a cautious step back.

She hasn’t exploded for a very long time, and I keep forgetting how terrifying it is.

“The big deal, Taryn Anne McDonald, is that we have room inspections in two days and there are pictures of sodding Disney characters everywhere I sodding well look!” She thunders. “Not to mention a naked mini-me!”

Ok. So this is… bad?

Yes. Just checked her face. Not even a hint of mirth. This is verging on terrible.

“I’ll fix it,” I promise.

“Yes you will.”

“Right, I’ll be back in a minute,” I say.

“Where are you going?”


Maya sighs heavily and collapses on her bed. From the shaking of her body she’s either laughing or crying.

I think I’ll go now.

“Is Charles around?”

Adam grunts and opens the door. I follow him in.

I grin at Charlie. “Charles, we have to paint,” I tell him.

He raises his eyebrows at me. “I learnt Irish because of you, I don’t want to learn how to paint.”

“Not pictures. Walls,” I correct, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”




“Oh for the love of God! Just go!” Adam yells.

Charles and I exchange a bemused look, then leave at high speed.

“Sorry about that,” I mutter as we walk back to my dorm, laden down with cream emulsion paint, paintbrushes and dust-sheets (once more, “liberated” from the school).


“Adam yelling,” I reply. “Didn’t mean to cause… not again.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he sighs tiredly. “We hadn’t yelled at each other all day, we were due a fight. And it wasn’t your fault before either.”

This is the first time he’s said that to me.

“You were right, I was being a ‘pig-headed twit’.”

I snort. “Mum mentioned that then?”

“Several times. She also said that if you don’t come to visit at least once a week during the summer that I’m not allowed to be involved in her wedding. I think if you promise to be good I can wrangle a bridesmaid position for you.”

I grin, feeling really good. Not many parents like me, but Casey does. “Really? Cool! Are the gowns going to be lilac?” I ask excitedly.

“Probably not.” He grins at me as we reach my room.

I kick the door. “Minx, let us in, I’ve got my arms full.”

Maya opens the door. “What took you so long?”

“I got us some help,” I say proudly as Charlie steps in the room behind me.

Her face does not light up with joy the way I expected. She sighs deeply and says, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you and Charlie will just fool around the whole time. Nothing will get done.” She states flatly.

“We’ll be good. I promise.”

I jab Charlie in the ribs and he hastily adds, “Oh yeah, no problem. Best behavior.”

Maya moans and flops back on her bed.

“Minx?” I say very tentatively. “I promise I’ll be good. You don’t have to do anything. Charles and I will do all of the painting, you can go somewhere else.”

Maya looks horrified, then grins. “I’m only going so that I have an alibi when you and Charlie get dragged into the office for defacing this room.”

Does she have no faith in me? I can be trusted!

I’ll show her!

Maya leaves and Charlie and I start spreading dust sheets over the beds. I move everything important into the bathroom. Then as an afterthought I pile all our school books in there too.

See, that was a mature, responsible decision I made.

“How did I get involved in this?” Charlie mutters, picking up a paintbrush.

“You’re my friend, you offered to help,” I reply.

“I did not offer to help.” He retorts, pulling down a sheet of velvet. “You made me.”

He’s so busy glaring at me he hasn’t noticed what’s behind the material. I leap across the room and position myself between Charlie and the wall. I give him a huge grin. “I’ll do this wall.” Maya will kill me if Charlie sees the tiny naked Maya painted on the wall. Oh sure, her bits are covered by flowers, but barely.

I couldn’t help it, I got all inspired. Let’s just say that Maya was feeling very loving and the next morning I was walking around in a daze and at lunch I had to get it out of my system, so I painted Maya. Naked.

When she first saw it she tried her hardest not to smirk, but she found it funny. But when she realized that we really do have quite a lot of visitors to our room the fun rubbed off, and the annoyance took over.

So I can’t imagine that she’d be thrilled to have Charles see the picture.

“What are you hiding?” he asks.

“Nothing. I just like this wall.” I give him an even bigger grin. “It’s my favorite of all the walls.”

He nods. “Ok, fair enough.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. That was easy… almost too ea—

Charlie crouches down and flips me over his shoulder and stands up again. I start hollering at him to put me down, but he just jiggles his shoulder making me feel dizzy.

“That hurts my stomach!” I complain loudly.

“This is fantastic artwork, Taryn.” He jiggles me again.

“Ow! Charles, put me down!” I start yelling in Irish and he starts laughing. I’ve decided it was more fun when he didn’t know what I was saying.

He dumps me down on the bed and returns to stare at the wall. “Your girlfriend is quite a hottie!”

I jump to my feet and kick him in the shins. “Stop eyeballing my girl! You’re a poof! Act like it!”

“Damn it, Taryn!” he yells. “That hurt! Why don’t you act like a girl and wear sandals instead of those great big clod-hopper boots?”

First he eyeballs my girl, now he’s insulting my… um, girlhood? Damn him! I jump on him and he catches me (he’s well trained by now) and starts tickling me.

We fall on the floor, getting good and bruised in the process, and knock several things off the desk.

One of those items is a can of paint.

Or to be more accurate, a can of paint without a lid.

Maya is so not going to see the funny side of this.

The Girl, Official stalker of Carla, Tangible Muse and Bod Who Generally Fixes the Mean Nasty Coding That Makes Carla Cry (After Having Broken It In The First Place)

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