Girls Who Play Guitars

•i fell in love with a moment•

Ellie sighed. "Go on."

"Come here."

Ellie stepped under the light where Ash held his arms wide. She let him fold her into a hug while her arms remained stiff by her side. As he pulled her closer to him, Ellie could smell that salty, sea air on his skin and the sting of tears returned to her eyes. She relaxed, folding her arms around him, resting her cheek against the cool leather of his jacket as he ran his hand over her hair and her earrings.

This is it. She imagined herself closing her notebook on those songs that had caused the empty ache inside and kept her from moving on for so many years.

When she looked up at Ash he stared down at her and she remembered the deep, deep ocean and the longing, pulse of the waves that filled the Kombi van where she'd slept in his arms, safe and warm.

"Ellie," he whispered, his breath warm on her face, "is ... is that song ... is it about me?"

"Which song?"

"The one everyone's singing? 'Green'? It's about me, isn't it?"

Ellie pushed out of his arms. Of course 'Green' was all about him. Every time she sang it, she felt him next to her, breathed with the notes as if they were his breaths.

When she cast her eyes over his face a flash showed in Ash's eyes and the stiff set of his mouth reminded Ellie of some of those 'suit' guys - always leering at her; always wanting more; pushing for more.

An orchestra of kindergarten kids began to tune up in her guts. "What are you—"

"That whole album, it's about me, isn't it?" Ash reached for her hand but Ellie jerked away and she scratched her fingers across her forehead.

"The van," Ash said, waving his hand at the Kombi which cast a long shadow across the car park. "Me and the van - that's the whole album, isn't it? Just tell me."

The aching stab of pain Ash had delivered to her heart all those years ago came back filling Ellie's head with a paralysing shriek, as if her pickup had gone microphonic.

Ellie stepped back. "No."

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"I said, no." Ellie held her shaking palms up.

A sharp noise behind her.

Ellie turned.

In the darkness, tucked behind the Commodore Ash had been so interested in, bending over to pick up a dropped camera lens cover, a photographer stared up at her and swore under his breath.

Ellie shoved Ash away as he moved toward her. She pointed a wavering finger at him. "Did you do this?"

"It wasn't what I—"

"You need to leave me the fuck alone!"

"Ellie—"

"You don't get a second chance!"

Ash took a step back.

Ellie reeled around to the photographer. "Give me those photos!"

"No way, baby, I got the shot," the photographer called from a safe distance. "Front page!"

"Don't you dare publish them!" Ellie shouted, stalking towards him, fists clenched.

"Who's gonna stop me?" The photographer sneered, pulling his cap low as he backed away from the approaching whirlwind that was Ellie Devine.

"Why?" Ellie called as he turned from her and jogged towards the loading gate, the fat slap of his trainers echoing around the empty car park. Ellie threw her hands in the air and bawled after him, "Why the fuck would you be so  ...  cruel?"