Girls Who Play Guitars

•going home feelings•

Meg swerved off into a deserted rest area and the guys in the panel van tooted and cheered as she veered away from them. A lone brick toilet block and a vandalised picnic table sat on the dusty ground. A herd of cows ambled across the dry field next to the road, looking at the car, flicking their ears with curiosity as it swerved on the dirt.

As soon as Meg yanked the handbrake on, Ellie shoved open her door and climbed out, ripping Meg's door open.

The remains of kangaroo that must have been hit by a car lay by the verge, buzzing with flies, its cavity of broken ribs stuck with fur and stinking of rotten flesh. It made Ellie's stomach churn.

"What's going on?" she demanded, hands on her hips, dust from the passing traffic lifting around her, stinging her eyes.

Meg clambered out of the car and stood in front of Ellie in her blue koala jumper, wringing her hands, her eyes downcast. She glanced at the dead kangaroo, let out a small sob, and held her wrist under her nostrils.

Ellie stalked over to Kim's door and wrenched it open. Kim sat inside, arms crossed, eyes to the front.

"Out," Ellie said, flicking her thumb at Kim. "Get out and tell me what's going on."

Kim pushed herself out of the car, shoved past Ellie and went to stand next to Meg with her fists firm on her hips.

"What?" Ellie fired at the two of them.

It was Meg who eventually spoke as she chewed polish off the side of her fingernail. "We think you need to sort your shit out."

Ellie dropped her arms to her sides and stared at her two friends. "What the fuck?"

"Kim's in a snoot because you lied to her about Daniel." Meg clutched the bottom of her windcheater and gazed between Kim and Ellie with wide eyes.

"But I didn't," Ellie said. "There's nothing going on between us."

"It doesn't make sense though," Meg said, tapping her fingers against her chin. "How can you go from nothing to coming out of his dressing room lookin' all sexed-up?"

"Sex-ed up?" Ellie ran her hands through her hair, not even sure what that meant. "Fuckin' hell. He wasn't feeling well and ... I ... helped him out. I went to tell him not to come to Port Lagan ..."

Meg closed her mouth and looked down at her jumper, running her finger along the puff paint.

"Why don't you want Daniel to come to Port Lagan?" Kim folded her arms and glared at Ellie.

Ellie ran a hand across her forehead. "Because ... I don't want you to get upset."

Meg fingered the hem of her jumper. "It's all a bit loopy."

"I wouldn't get upset." Kim stepped forward.

"Yes, you would." Ellie held her ground. "When Ash showed up, you told me to not drop the ball - concentrate on the tour and the case—"

"And look what happened at our gigs! At the record store!" Kim's voice escalated.

"I said I was sorry. We all make mistakes—"

Kim turned her face to the sky, clenched her teeth, then looked back at Ellie with a wild look in her eyes - one Ellie wasn't familiar with. A derisive, hate-filled look that would have been at home on the cover of a Doom Metal album.

"We can't afford to make mistakes, Ellie. There is a legal case where Jessie's gets to own our songs and all you're doing is thinking about what's in Daniel fuckin' Armstrong's pants."