I dot two eyes in the circle, smiling at my cute little Santa man; I'm doing well for someone who lacks talent, but probably not for the fifth try. Mat said the other attempts look like miniature serial killers.

Gazing over at Ely, I look at his creation; he's drawing a realistic, younger version of Mrs Clause that's kind of reminiscent of Heidi Montag.

I look down at my chest, frowning.

"Don't worry, yours are shapely," Mat whispers in my ear.

"What?" I shove his head away, playful. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He waggles his eyebrows, teasing and too observant for his own good. I shake my head and pick up my pencil, beginning to doodle a border to distract myself. Mat has none of it and snatches it, sliding it under a leg; he's not going to give my picture back until he gets what he wants.

I cross my arms over my chest, lips twitching and chin up, "What do you want from me?"

"I think you know what I want," His eyes slide over to Ely who's shading Mrs. Clause's chest area. Ely's friends hoot and pump fists either side of him, delighted by this development. "I want to know what's going on with you and Blondie over there."

"Nothing is going on," I gasp, shoving him in the shoulder.

"Yet," Mat shrugs, looking down at the picture and blinking. "God damn, Marcie. I mean, I know you like him but still."

"What?" I look at the picture and back up at him, bemused. "What do you mean? You don't like Santa? We're creating Christmas things to decorate the library. It's the only thing I could do."

"I know, your reindeer looked like Satan," Mat brings a hand to his lips, smothering laughter. I feel slightly offended. He catches my look and smiles apologetically, grabbing the picture from under his leg and holding it up. "Can you really not see the resemblance?"

"Resemblance to what?" I look at it, nonplussed.

"It looks exactly like Ely," He whispers, leaning in closer and glancing towards the person in question. "I mean you're a shit drawer, Marc; but this one is pretty dead on."

"Hey, what?" I grab the picture off of him, looking down at in incredulously; a little white and red dressed man stares up at me. "I don't see it at all, and thanks for that. It makes me feel so good that this drawing isn't 'shit' like the rest of them."

"I mean it in the nicest way possible," Mat reaches over and squeezes my knee, winking. I give him a look, raising an eyebrow; how can one possibly use the word 'shit' affectionately? Unless he means my drawings are The Shit, which I'm thinking not. "Oh come on, get over it. I can't believe you don't think it looks like him, let's see if someone else –"

"No," I grip the sides of it, shaking my head slowly so he gets it through his stubborn little mind. "No you are not taking a picture of this and sending it to your boyfriend."

Mat pouts at me, clasping his hands together pleadingly. I shake my head. He drops one hand into his pocket, like he thinks he can hide the fact he's texting from me. Someone could blindfold him and tie his hands behind his back, but the boy would still find a way.

"I know what you're doing," I shake my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest, "you're asking him to take a 'bathroom break' i.e. cut class and come see for himself."

Mat stares at me, wide-eyed and innocent.

"Don't you dare," I warn him, looking over at Ely and shaking my head. "George is incredibly loud and gossipy, he'll go right over there and show it to him."

Mat stares at me a second longer; he then grins and pulls his hand back out of his pocket, looking pleased with himself. I shake my head at him again. I can already imagine George running down the halls, liking any excuse to get out of Foundation maths – AKA the dumb maths class, which he takes not because he's dumb but because he's lazy – as well as being partially dick-whipped.

Barely even a minute after Mat's text, George comes crashing through the door and hops onto Mat's lap. He presses a kiss to Mat's forehead, his behaviour only allowed because the teacher had left the room due to our school being a public school in a small town, and slightly dodgy.

"Hi honey," George looks around the class before his eyes settle on Ely. "Where's the picture? I need the picture so we can compare."

"Gees," Mat untangles George's arms from his neck, shoving him off his lap and onto the floor. George lands with a thump and pouts, looking hurt. "No offence, George; but you're really gay."

"Thank you?" George blinks confusedly.

"Here's the picture," Mat swipes it from out of my arms, throwing it at him before I can get it back. It hits George right in the face and slides down onto his lap, leaving him staring at Mat irritably. I know exactly how he feels. "Oh get over it, you two; you know I love you."

George rolls his eyes and sits up on his knees, bringing the picture up beside Ely and tilting his head. Mat and I both eye him expectantly but I know what he's going to say; he's of course going to agree with me. I mean the picture is a stick figure, for crying out loud.

"Oh," He nods thoughtfully, and wait for it – wait for it, here comes the confirmation. I'm right and Mat is wrong. "Oh yeah, totally. I mean normally Marcie's drawings are shit, like her card she made me for Christmas; there were satanic reindeer all over it."

"Hey," I complain, furrowing my brows at him. "You said you liked that card and more to the point – how on Earth does that look like Ely?"

At this point in time Ely looks up from colouring in Mrs. Clause's panties and straight at me, raising an eyebrow. I feel my cheeks colouring and look determinedly down at my feet, wanting to kill myself. I suppose I should have been a little quieter. I'm just getting frustrated.

"How on Earth does it look like an Ely-phant?" Mat smacks his hands against his cheeks.

"Nice save, Mattie. And Marc; I say a lot of things, sweetie," George smiles meekly, glancing pointedly at the picture. "But this isn't one of them; I swear this looks more like an Ely-phant than a Santa Clause."

There's a rap on the door and our Art teacher, Mrs. Maloney, walks back in, raising her eyebrows at George who is on the floor and catching the door, holding it open. She steps aside and with her other hand gestures to the exit, shaking her head. "George, get off of the floor and back to class."

George hands me back my picture and pouts, looking up at Mat dreamily.

"I didn't get to kiss you goodbye," He batts his eyelashes.

"George," Mrs. Maloney calls out, causing him to glare daggers and twitch irritably. "George get up and get out, now. I'm not running a day-care centre; this is a place of learning, despite all appearances."

George pushes himself up and is about to do her bidding when Mat grabs him by the arm, pulling George's lips to his own and kissing him. George for a second melts before he's released and skips happily out the door to the bewilderment of Mrs. Maloney, who watches him fade into the distance.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't invite your boyfriend to class, Mathew," She slams the door, rolling her eyes and returning to her desk. Stacking up some graded class work and putting it aside she looks over to the teacher's assistant, who's been reading in the corner. "Lewis, Lewis; pick up everyone's drawings and take them to the library."

I look down at mine, biting my lip. I mean I don't personally see it but if it looks like I really want it being put up on the library Christmas tree? Where everyone including him can go and see it whenever they want? Where George can drag all of his girl friends (note the space between) and his girl friends drag their boyfriends?

Until eventually everyone in the school knows I have a crush on Ely?

"I don't want to hand it in," I whisper to Mat, who'd grabbed one of the black chalk pastels and was using it as a lump of coal. He's just too lazy to make anything. "Both you and George think it looks like him, he's going to see it and think I'm obsessed."

"So?" Mat blinks at me, pushing around two cotton 'snow balls' with a fingertip. Gees, even if mine don't look very nice at least I put effort into them. "It'll just speed up the process a little bit."

"Speed up the process?" I echo, smacking him in the shoulder and raising my eyebrows. "Ely isn't going to like my picture, it's going to freak him out."

"Uh-oh, he''s looking at you," Mat whispers. I follow his gaze and sure enough; Ely's looking at me, head in his hands and baby blues wide with intrigue. My heart skips a beat and he raises his eyebrows , a smile crawling across his lips. "Oh good God, Ely's giving you sex eyes."

"Shut up," I sputter at Mat, eyes still on Ely. It's like I can't look away, but he's not looking away either. "No, he's not. He's just smiling."

"Like he wants you," He scoffs, rolling his eyes at me.

"Who wants her?" Lewis grins, looking from me to Mat and then quickly around the room. He holds the box of Christmas decorations to his lips, eyes wide. Slowly turning his gaze back to mine and leaning closer, he whispers. "Oh, Marcie, Ely does; he's giving you sex eyes."

He darts a look over his shoulder again, "Oh yeah, now he's glaring at me for talking to you."

I grab Lewis' arm and move him out of the way, peeping over at Ely; he's looking down at his desk, slight frown on his lips. Was he really jealous of Lewis? I feel excitement start to bubble up inside me. He could be really jealous, he could like me back.

Ely might like me back.

"Whoa," Lewis looks down at my picture, whistling.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," I glare at him, pursing my lips. "It doesn't look like him. I don't know how you three think so."

Lewis and Mat share a look, laughing.

I slam a fist down on the table and they look at me, concerned. Like they're worried for my mental health. They widen their eyes, Mat bringing up a finger and spinning it around near his temple. The universally recognisable sign for 'crazy'.

"Oh for God's sake," I shove the picture into my book bag beside my chair, scowling. "Putting this up on the library Christmas tree would be asking for public humiliation."

Lewis laughs and as the bell starts to go, he gives Mat's questionable decorations a look and decides to bypass them. Giving a wave over his shoulder he walks out the door and heads to the library.

"I like him," Mat smiles.

"You would," I snort, beginning to push my pencils into my pencil case and zip it closed. "I'm getting out of here before he comes over and asks why everyone's saying his name so much."

"Mostly you," Mat snorts back.

I ignore him, shaking my head; that picture's going right in the bin as soon as I get home.

I'm making ganache for my cake.

"Hey," Ely greets me and I nearly chop off my finger, looking up. "You're making ganache for your cake."

My cheeks flush, my mouth dropping. Now that he's up close and personal I'm not really sure what to say. He looks at me, eyes crinkling when I don't say anything; finding my lack of words amusing. I'm not sure I agree.

"Um, yeah," I nod, putting down the knife before I cut myself. "I am making ganache for my cake."

"Well then," Ely shakes his head, picking up a piece of white chocolate and inspecting it. "I think we're in a bit of a pickle."

"A pickle?" I echo, blinking at him.

"Yeah, a pickle," He nods, deadly serious and holding the chocolate up demonstratively. "You're making the same ganache for your cake as I am for mine, my favourite kind. The white chocolate kind."

"Oh?" I look over to his cooking bench and sure enough, there's a big bowl of white chocolate ganache sitting next to his cake. Looking down at my white chocolate pieces, I bite my lip; he's faster than I am.

"Oh," He nods, echoing.

Shyly, I pick up some of the pieces and put them in my bowl. "It's my favourite too."

"Well looks like we have another thing in common," Ely raises his eyebrows, smiling; I wonder if he's doing the sex eyes again. Like Mat and Lewis said he was.

But wait – what? What did he mean by another thing in common? What was the first thing?

"Pardon?" I inquire, tilting my head.

"Are you going to put strawberries around the edge?" He ignores my question, nodding to the strawberries beside my ganache bowl.

"Um yeah," I smile, wondering whether it's a good thing.

Ely drops the white chocolate and widens his eyes, looking incredulous. His eyes dart to the bowl of strawberries over at his bench and back at mine, he shakes his head in mock disgust.

Holding a finger to my bowl, he flicks it accusingly, "Stealing all my ideas, Marcie."

"I'm sorry," I look down at my feet, fumbling to say something witty. "Maybe you were the one copying, not me."

"Me?" He points a finger at himself, mouth twisting. I look at him and try not to smile, not only is he cute he's funny. "You're accusing me of copying you? Marcie Mayfield, why I never! This is an outrage, a travesty and an insult to all man kind."

"I –" I start but he holds up a hand, using the universally recognisable word sign for 'stop'.

"No, I don't even want to hear it," Ely picks up the chocolate he dropped, wagging it at me. "I'm going to say good day to you, Marcie Mayfield. Good day to you."

I bring a hand to my mouth as he shakes his head at me, turning and heading back to his bench. My shoulders are shaking and my cheeks are threatening to dimple. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to regain my composure. He's so cute.

Ely looks back, winking.

I almost sink down onto the cooking room floor, my knees going weak. Oh my word, he's such a keeper. He's got this blonde, flippy hair that dwindles at the nape of his neck and these eyes so blue, they're like Chicken Little gave him a piece of the sky.

I think I'm in love.

Turning my eyes back to my ganache, I smile to myself and pick the knife back up.

"Hi again," I look back up and my heart skips a beat; Ely's standing in front of me, bowl of white chocolate ganache under one arm. "I saw you nearly cut yourself before with the knife, chopping it up and since I've finished with mine..."

He leans down and puts it in front of me, looking up through his lashes, "I thought you could use it."

Straightening, he walks back over to to his cake and begins placing strawberries. I gape, grabbing the edge of the bench with one hand and clutching my chest with the other, swooning.

It's official; he's ruined me for all other men.

Grabbing the spatula from the bowl, I bring it up to my eyes and sigh in adoration. His hands were on this very spatula few precious minutes ago. Scooping up the ganache and spreading it over my cake, I sigh happily and clench my hands around it.

I'll never wash these hands again.

Gees, my bag is heavy tonight. It wasn't this heavy before PE and I would know, I had to haul it up the hill over the other side of school to get to the football field. I specifically pack light on days when I have PE. Did someone chuck their crap in my bag by accident?

Groaning and feeling my shoulders crack in protest, I give up and haul it off of my back and set it on the ground in front of me. It lands with an impressive thump, like it's full of rocks.

I eye it incredulously and my disbelief only increases as I unzip the bag and five Disney DVDs pop out, unloading themselves on the grass – like my bag is so full, so packed, that there's just no room for them in there.

But I didn't even put them in; I don't even own any DVDS, my brother downloads all of our movies online and stores them on various computers in the household and portable hard drives. Who put these stupid DVDs in my bag?

I delve further in and blink when I see a brown paper bag – covered in caricatures of elves and reindeer, un-satanic reindeer – instead of my old Barbie lunch box and then a phone with so many scratches, so many cracks I'm not even sure why it's still holding together. Half the numbers have faded and the number pad itself looks like it's going to fall off. Whoever owns it obviously uses it.

I pick it up and unlock it, a picture of Beauty and the Beast pops up.

Blinking, I look down at the rest of insides of the black and grey bag and back to the phone; I think I've taken someone else's bag, which is kind of amazing. I've had my bag for a really long time and I didn't think anyone else had one like it.

"Well okay," I sigh, not really knowing any other way to figure it out as none of it is named. "Guess I have to check the girl's messages."

Only when I open the messages, to my surprise…

Hey Ely, where you at?

"Crap," I stare at the phone, mouth agape, hoping that all of the cracks and scratches are distorting the words and they really aren't what they look like.

I slump against someone's picket fence, blinking in disbelief and wondering what to do about my predicament when the phone starts buzzing. It scares the crap out of me and I throw it at the ground.

The phone crash lands and the number pad falls off.

Hesitantly I bend over and pick it up, bringing it to my ear and pressing the 'answer' button to see if it'll work. It better work. I don't want him to hate me.

"Hey Marcie," Ely greets, voice silky smooth. "It appears we have the same bag."

I almost drop the phone again and lean back against the picket fence, wide-eyed, just in case the weakness in my knees isn't temporary. Oh my God, I've had the privilege of him talking to me three times in one day. I think I can die now and it wouldn't matter.

"H-Hey Ely," I look down at my feet, shifting my weight shyly even though he can't see me. "I guessing so, I like your Disney movies –"

"Shit," He curses and I widen my eyes, bringing the phone away and staring. Did he just swear at me? I bring it back, bemused. "No – no they're not mine, they're my sisters. I was getting some movies for her to watch. She's sick."

"Okay," I say slowly, remembering his phone background.

"Real sick, um," He pauses, trying to change the subject. "I like the picture you drew of me –"

"What?" My cheeks flush bright red and I gasp, covering my mouth. "Oh no, you didn't see that did you? It wasn't meant to look like you. It's supposed to be a picture of Santa."

"I was kind of wondering why I was surrounded by pictures of Satan," Ely laughs, sounding somewhat confused. I smack a palm against my forehead. "But hey – what? Why were you drawing Santa with Satan? How can you hate Santa?"

"It's not Satan," I groan, sick of having to explain my drawings. "It's a reindeer and it was supposed to be Rudolph. Don't you see the red nose?"

"I thought that was blood," He laughs weakly.

"What kind of a person do you think I am?" I cry in mortification, wanting to rip out my hair. Even he thinks the picture looks like him, and that the reindeer look like Satan. "I don't think you or Santa are like Satan."

"That's reassuring. Anyway, I think I'm using up a lot of your credit here," He cuts in, laughing. "Come over to my house and we'll exchange property. Do you know where I live? I live –"

"A couple houses down from me," I pipe in, smiling at the memory of him doing half-naked push ups in his back yard; the houses by mine are single story and I can see into all of their yards from my second story bedroom window. "I know."

"Alright Marc, see you," Ely coos into the phone, causing my heart to tremor.

I'm about to say goodbye when he hangs up. Pouting, I lean over and grab his number pad from the ground and try to jam it back on. It flops uselessly back into my palm.

Maybe when we're going out I can get him a new one for his birthday? I squeal into my hands \at the thought, shaking my head furiously. No, no, no and definitely not –

I'm getting way too ahead of myself.

I wonder what we'll name our children?

George sits in front of me, picking up my blonde hair and wrapping it around his straightener. Mat insisted on him giving me a makeover before I go over to Ely's house. I feel kind of weird letting him though. I mean, I'm going over to return his bag. Not for a date.

"Stop moving your head," He gives me a look, letting go of the curl and running his hand through my hair, putting it into place. Mat on the other side of him looks up and sprays me in the face with hair spray. "I don't have long to go, you're going to make me burn your ear off."

I cough and bring a finger to my stinging eye. Rubbing.

"Stop," George smacks my hand away, glaring. "You're going to make your eyes all puffy and wipe the make-up off."

"Good," I sniff, going to stroke my injured hand when he smacks me again. "Ow – what did you do that for?"

"Nail polish," He rolls his eyes at me, curling my fringe and pinning it down. I close my eyes to avoid getting sprayed in the face. "I think we're done."

I open my eyes and turn to the mirror, pressing my hands up against it. I think in this dress my boobs look almost big. I tug the purple sparkly material upwards, wondering if I can adjust the straps. I'm not sure that I like it.

"She looks hot," Mat winks at me and I raise an eyebrow. He waggles his eyebrows and turns to George, smirking. "I think I might even go straight for her."

"I think I might too," George grabs my hands and stands up, bringing me with him. I'm being held against his chest awkwardly as he smirks over at Mat. "Oh, yeah. That's the stuff."

Pushing against his chest, I detach myself and look to my bedroom window. Ely's house is like a shining beacon, the brick house dancing around in my eyes teasingly. I can almost see it's door opening and closing, like it's mocking me.

Ely's over in his house, just waiting for me to come dote on him.

"I'm going," I inform them, leaving them to their bickering. I run out of my room and down the stairs, nearly tripping over in my eagerness. I slide my hand down the banister as I go in attempt to keep myself upright and widen my eyes, mum incoming.

Mum hears me and stops, turning her head and looking up the stairs, "Hey, honey; you look pretty. Where are you going?"

"Down the street," I pull to a stop, grabbing Ely's bag which is sitting beside the stairs and smiling briefly at my mum. "Love you."

I proceed to run past her, hauling on my thongs which I'm not sure go with my dress. It doesn't particularly matter to me. I've been jumping up and down for two hours in anticipation. I didn't even want the makeover I just want to see him.

Crossing over all of my neighbour's yards as a short cut, I slow down to a walk when I get near his house. I don't want him to think I ran here. The fact that I did is a small technicality.

Screaming on the inside, I step onto his lawn, looking around and swinging his bag. "Ely's going to come outside and see me, Ely's going to come outside and see me."

"Marcie?" His mum sticks her head out the door, smiling amusedly. I feel my cheeks going bright red and stop swinging his bag. "He's in his room, watching a movie."

"Oh okay," I smile and look at my feet, making my way over to the door and stepping in when she holds up an arm in welcome. I look around his house, and it's very multicoloured. His mum's an interior designer and she caters for everyone – I think she even turned our garage into a disco for my mum's fortieth birthday – but her taste's a little more eccentric.

Bright green walls in the entrance, orange racks to hang the keys on. It's like an assault on my eyeballs and I mean it in a good way; I certainly wouldn't mind living here. For more reasons than her son, of course.

"Down the hall and to the left," She informs me helpfully, holding out her hand. "I'm Mrs. Johnson by the way, but you can call me Katherine."

"Thank you Katherine," I shake her hand and grin before speeding off down the hall like a rocket, my eyes settling on a sign haphazardly hanging on the door Ely's room. Wrapping my arms around my chest and doing a little happy dance I walk over, knocking on his door. "Ely, it's Marcie."

I hug his bag to my chest and wait a beat but nothing happens. I hear music from the other side of the door and figure it's too loud for him to hear. Pushing the door open, a 60 inch LCD TV is revealed to me. Beauty and the Beast is playing and Ely is lying on his bed, kicking his legs in the air behind him, head in his hands and obviously absorbed.

My immediate reaction is to take a picture, but he has my phone.

It's near the end and Belle is kissing the Beast, turning him into a prince – as he watches his lips twitch up and his eyes fill with wonder. He brings a hand to his chest in mock adoration, pointing at Belle and the beast and flopping face first into his doona when the credits begin.

I clear my throat and he goes rigid, peeking up and eyes going wide.

"Hey Ely," I hold up his bag and try not to laugh, bringing a hand to my lips. "I brought your bag, where's your sister? Did she go to the bathroom or?"

"Smart ass," He presses his face into his doona, laughing but embarrassed. He lies there shaking for a while, trying to regain his composure. I take the opportunity to look for a place to sit, spotting his spinny computer chair and a couple of bean bags next to his bed. "Sit on my bed, just a sec."

Ely sits up and moves over, slapping the spot beside him. "Come on, I won't bite."

I look down at my feet, feeling my cheeks beginning to burn. I'm pretty sure if he sits next to me I'll pee my pants if we happen to brush knees – and the most terrifying thing about that statement is that I'm not sure I'm exaggerating.

The bean bags next to his bed look like a safer option, but he clears his throat. I look up and he brings a hand to his chest, looking offended.

"I let you find out one of my deepest darkest secrets," He says, pointing to the credits. "That I like to watch Disney movie marathons – hear the sound of a million footballers from our school beating the shit out of me – and you won't even come sit down next to me?"

I smile at him uncertainly, shifting my weight.

"Oh, come on," Ely rolls his eyes good naturally, slapping the spot beside him again. "I'm a born and bred Disney fan, read; I'm not going to be putting any moves on you apart from almost kisses and perhaps some hand holding."

I laugh and nod, choosing to trust him. It's not like I'd mind if he did. I'm just concerned that I'll like it too much and seriously, looking at him – all blonde, blue eyed and a great example of masculine perfection – it's not a good idea to be doing that. He's bound to have way too many girls that are way cooler, prettier and most importantly more confident than I am.

Confidence is sexy and on that account I am sexless.

Walking over to his bed, I'm careful not to step on any DVDs. Ely, for someone so fixated on watching them doesn't look like he takes too much care; they're strewn across the floor, some of them in the wrong cases and some of them simply sitting atop their cases, just waiting to get accidentally stepped on.

"Be careful," He laughs, grabbing me by the hand when I trip over a particularly large pile of dancing/musical movies. His fingertips are soft and warm on mine, especially in his airconditioned room; he starts slowly drawing circles on my palm. "I don't want you hurting yourself, or my DVDs."

"Your room is real messy," I sink down on his bed, blinking when it ripples underneath me. It's a water bed. Looking at it and pressing the mattress down with a free hand, I test it and grin when it bounces back, sending us both slightly swaying. "I like your bed though; I've always wanted one of these, they're cool."

"Oh it's really warm inside, you should see," Ely suggests, causing me to blink and flush – a second later he squeezes my hand, sticking his tongue out at me. "I didn't mean it in that way, you perv. Gosh and I thought you were so cute and innocent."

I duck my head and bring my free hands to my hair, stiffening when my fingers smooth over the curls. I'd nearly forgotten that they were there and that I was wearing such a – my gaze averts from my hair to my chest and I clench s , wondering in mortification if he thinks I'm trying too hard.

It wasn't even my idea.

"You are still cute, though," He compliments me, scooting over closer so he's right next to me and causing my heart to speed up like crazy, nearly causing a palpitation. His free hand reaches for my hair, twirling a curl of it around his finger and grinning. "Especially tonight you're cute – did you go and dress up for me?"

"No," I sputter, looking at him and shaking my head. "I mean yeah, I'm dressed up but that's because George and I were giving each other makeovers and –"

"Marc, I'm only teasing," he flicks me on the chin gently, scooting away a little to give me some space before gesturing to his pile of DVDs. "Do you want to watch a movie with me? I mean there's heaps around, but they're limited to happy endings."

"I love happy endings, so okay," I smile and he claps his hands together.

"Well then, Marcie," he pulls a stack onto his lap and raises his eyebrows. "I think we'll be here for a while."

I pick up a t-shirt, bringing it up against me and frowning. It's sort of the same colour as my hair, and so if I wear it it'll be pretty confusing. It's all golden and shiny and really nice, cheap too. But it's not something I'm ever going to actually wear and so it'd be pointless buying it.

Putting it back on the shelf, I turn around and look for other things to buy. A girl walks past with a sparkly magenta shirt on, much like the golden one and bearing the same logo. RAL clothing lines\, the latest and greatest line to hit the store. I mean, apparently they'd been made by some cult leaders who'd formed a company, creating heaps of different things -

Cheap things like these t-shirts, and expensive things like RAL perfume and RAL airlines –which, like QUANTAS, hasn't crashed once.

If they own an airline as good as QUANTAS, who cares if they're a cult? I would even be going to a RAL department store if it weren't for the fact they only had them in the city. I have to settle for KMART.

"Excuse me," I call to the magenta shirt girl, who looks over her shoulder and blinks at me. "Where'd you get that shirt? There's only gold ones over here."

"Oh yeah," Magenta Girl smiles, pointing over my shoulder to the far end of the women's department. "There's all kinds of colours over there. The gold one is the latest colour to be released, some say it contains traces of actual gold in it."

"Thanks," I smile, giving the gold shirts another look and then picking up some of my hair. "I guess I could dye it, really –"

I stop mid sentence and spot Ely walking into KMART, feeling my face going bright red.

The other night when we were watching movies I fell asleep and when I woke up he was half-dead looking and my head was in his lap. It was 3AM and he hadn't wanted to wake me, nice boy he is, but I was so embarrassed and haven't talked to him since.

"What are you looking at?" Magenta Girl asks curiously, following my gaze.

"I've got to go," I spin around and start to walk deeper into the women's department.

Ely appears to have me locked into his coordinates however because although he's not looking at me, he's walking in my direction. I hold out my arms, grabbing clothes from their hangers and holding them above my head for protection.

Maybe if I'm covered in lots of clothes he won't recognise me.

"Excuse me, ma'am," One of the shop assistants looks at me, pausing in her duties. "Ma'am, please stop for a second."

"Can't stop," I walk right past her.

Turning my head for a moment, I scan around to see what he's doing; he's picking up a Minnie Mouse tee and holding it against himself, making a face.

Good, he hasn't noticed I'm here.

Looking around, I begin to walk over to the dinner set section to look for a Christmas present for mum. I've broken a few plates this year due to lack of coordination and I'd like to somehow make up for it – though I did inform her before she told me to wash the dishes that I was crap at it and it'd probably break things....

You wouldn't think she'd be so surprised when five minutes later she walked in, and there I was, picking up shards of glass.

I pick up a box and hold it up, eyeing the pink designs – my mum would probably like this, but my dad probably would refuse to use it.

I look over shelf, checking to find him coming in my direction yet again, walking faster this time. Shoving the box back in the shelf and depositing the clothes, I'm speed-walking off in the other direction, the garden section to buy my dad a new lawn gnome.

Speeding up, I sneak in there, ducking down behind a pot plant and peaking between leaves at Ely who's arrived in the dinner set section. He's eyeing the box with all of the clothes sitting on it strangely before looking around, as if trying to find something specifically.

I wonder if he breaks cups, bowls and plates at home too?

Getting back to my feet, I look around at all the pots and sigh disappointedly; no garden gnomes to be seen, just a lot of green, black, blue, brown and grey pots in many different shapes and sizes. I wish they made them more interesting; I might be stuck here a while.

About to walk into the next aisle, I poke my head around the corner and my jaw drops.

He's coming after me, again. How is he managing this?

Darting my head back around, I scamper quickly down the backs of the aisles, trying to get as far away from him as I can; looking over my shoulder every five seconds.

What is he? A GPS with its target set on me?

I run into the make-up section and wind myself, bumping into someone and nearly falling on my butt before they catch my hands – I look up, horrified to think he's finally caught up.

"Whoa there," George greets, steadying me. "Who are you running from chicken?"

"It's crazy," I squeeze his hands, looking over my shoulder. "Ely's onto me like we're playing Pac-Man, and he hasn't even seen me. It's just every section I go to, he's there or he's going there – even the women's section, he was in the women's section George."

George stares at me, holding a baby pink tube of lip gloss in his hand.

"I know you're in the women's section," I roll my eyes, spotting Ely who's getting closer and closer. "But you don't really count, George – now let's run, run."

I grab George's hand and he drops the lip gloss, starting to jog after me as I tear towards the exit; wondering whether or not the shop assistants will find it suspicious, like I'm trying to steal something. But I guess they'll know by the beepers not going off.

"Why are we running from him again?" He wants to know, sounding confused. "I thought you liked him."

"That's irrelevant," I run past the detectors to the bewilderment of the security worker and we run out of the store, round the corner and down the street before we stop, gasping for air. "I just like him so much, and I don't want him to have to explain to me that just because he let me sleep on his lap it doesn't mean he wants to go steady."

George leans against the McDonald's, quirking an eyebrow. "Doesn't he obviously like you?"

"No, no he doesn't," I protest, shaking my head and feeling my stomach lurch. "I mean he was just being nice by doing that; I don't want him to act like it was more than it was."

He stares at me, biting his lip. "Isn't running away from him like a mad woman kind of acting like you thought what happened was a big deal?"

"Oh, no," I laugh, waving a hand dismissively. "Of course not; he didn't see me running around, that's what was weird about it."

"Right," George agrees, nodding slowly.

I bring up both hands, giving him double waves and turning on my heel.

I'm walking home before anything else weird can happen.

But happen it did. I stare outside my lounge room window, pulling back the curtains. Ely is sitting outside, playing with the lawn gnomes and making them talk to one another. Oh, and make out with each other by the looks of it.

One girl gnome and a boy gnome are now being mashed up against one another, and I can hear his animated sound effects from inside.

I walk over to the door hesitantly, drawing it open.

"Oh, Ely," He uses falsetto with the girl gnome, bobbing her around as 'she' talks. "No, I never should have run away from you and I should have stayed that one time I came over – stayed and made sweet, pretty babies with you. Ooohh."

I blink at him, nonplussed; what is he talking about?

"Oh, I forgive you Marcie," He says in gruff, manly tones. "Let me take you to the Rose bushes where we can soak up the romantic atmosphere and get some privacy."

"Ely?" I squeak, cheeks going bright red.

Ely drops the gnomes and looks up at me, somewhat mortified. He has dirt all over his hands and his clothes. I wonder how long he's been sitting out there, waiting for me to come outside. He pushes himself to his feet and begins to dust himself off, looking at his feet and cheeks slightly flushed.

"I was just doing a little roleplay there," He laughs, not looking at me.

"I could see that," I look at the gnomes, wondering what my dad would think about them being defiled in such a way. "I like the..the names you gave them."

"Yeah, about that," Ely bites his lip and forces his gaze to mine, causing me to start feeling rather dizzy; my heart speeding up in my chest like crazy. "I'm not quite sure that I want to make babies with you just yet, but you not hiding behind plants at KMART would be a start."

"Oh, sorry," I blush, also mortified. "I didn't know if you'd seen me or not."

"I was following you around the entire store," He raises his eyebrows incredulously. "I went into the women's section and pretended to try on t-shirts and you still didn't come over and talk to me. Why didn't you talk to me?"

I stare, swallowing; why didn't I talk to him?

Because I didn't want to get rejected, that's why. I mean even now he's doing totally cute things like play with my garden gnomes, if creating provocative story lines for them. I'm pretty sure a guy like him's in high demand and who am I to be the girl that catches his eye?

"Um, I thought you were just being nice," I shrug, uncomfortable but still trying to maintain eye contact. He blinks bemusedly at this and I blush, chewing on the sides of my gums anxiously. "I didn't want you to pretend to like me because you were being nice."

Ely begins to walk over to me and I feel my knees weaken, trembling at the sight of his brilliant smile. He waits until he's standing right in front of me, leaning and peering straight into my eyes. "I'm not pretending."

I swallow again and he glances at my lips. My heart skips a beat and I shift my weight, not being able to take the anticipation.

Is he really going to...?

"I took your bag home with me on purpose," He whispers, smiling at me embarrassedly. "I did forget about the Disney DVDs in mine, which was a little emasculating. And when you drew that picture of me in class I was drawing one of you too."

"I thought it was Mrs. Clause," I protest, incredulously thinking back to it and shaking my head furiously. "No way that was me, she had really massive boobs – I mean, uh..."

Ely quirks an eyebrow at me, smirking, "So you were watching me?"

He takes another step closer and leans, looking into my eyes. He's barely inches away now and heart going crazy inside my chest, my knees go weak and my legs threaten to collapse.

Glancing at them he takes me by the shoulder and closes in another inch, and my brain starts thinking up ways to quickly use this to my advantage – pretending to trip over and oops, our lips are pressing together. Or, oh no, it's mistletoe but not really and then kiss before he can stop me. Maybe –

I look up and blue eyes are twinkling with amusement.

Ely giggles at my fixation on his lips before pressing his to mine and shutting his eyes, bringing me back into my front door. He's gentle and his fingers stroke the sides of my face as he kisses, being the perfect gentlemen and only touching me with his lips and his hands.

Which I change, hesitantly bringing my arms around his waist and pulling him to me.

"Uh-oh, I think we're getting a little PG," He laughs into my lips, shaking his head. "I think Disney isn't going to be happy with me; in the movies with real teens in them it's always unresolved sexual tension and no climax."

"Damned Disney," I tap my fingers on his back, tilting my chin and smiling sweetly. "I guess I should go back inside before he's really, really disappointed in me; there are those rumours that he's been put in cryogenically frozen. He'll be pissed when he wakes up."

"Don't worry, I've bought so many Disney movies from him – he owes me, big time," Ely nods seriously, eyes wide and lips straight. I laugh and he drops the fake composure and wraps his arms around my shoulders; pressing his lips into my neck and nuzzling me affectionately.

"Oh does he?" I bring my hands to his blonde hair and run my fingers through it; it's silky smooth to the touch and it smells like bubblegum.

"Yeah," he lifts his head from my shoulder and looks into my eyes, winking. "I even use Disney shampoo."


Here's your Christmas one shot guys! It's super duper weird XD I had a lot of fun writing it and mah goodness, did I rewrite a whole lot. I stayed up to 6AM to finish this! 6AM! And then when I woke up four hours later I rewrote some and although i haven't edited it all over again...

I'm hoping it's still okay XD and do you like the name? I came up with it myself. That's why it's so bland and boring and plain-like.

(Also, if there are any's because I was more sleep deprived writing this than anything else before)


Love you all, and happy new years eve. I'll be writing regularly and updating chapters again from now on.

If you don't believe me - JUST REMEMBER THE FACT I WROTE TWO ONE SHOTS IN ONE WEEK FOR YOU! I feel so shit right now and will be staying up late 'cause it's new years...I feel taste of vomit in my throat, like not having vomited but like because my body's protesting about lack of sleep that it's going all vomit-y.