Look for the Girl With the Broken Smile
o21
SJ held her tears until she passed all the security and made it back to the tourbus. But once inside, she burst into sobs and sank to the middle of the living room floor.
Dougie’s words rang in her ear. Slag. Manipulative. Bitch. She sobbed even harder. Dougie had called her a bitch many times in the past, but this was the first time it had really hurt. How could he say that to her without even giving her a chance to explain? She couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t meant to lie to him or hurt him. But that was exactly how everything had ended up.
She felt sick to her stomach, like she was going to vomit. Fucking James. If he hadn’t come back and ruined everything…But deep down she knew it was her fault too. She hadn’t been truthful with either of them, and it had all caught up with her in the end.
Her mobile suddenly rang. SJ fished it out from her jacket pocket and answered it without checking the caller ID. “If this is James fucking Stone, I never want to speak to you again! Understood, you fucking douche?” she shouted into the phone.
There was a pause. “Er…hello?” a dubious male voice asked. “Is Sarah Jane Judd available?”
Oops. Not James. SJ almost groaned. “Er, yeah, hi, speaking,” she mumbled, cursing herself.
“Right.” The man cleared his throat. “This is Charles Miller, from the London Institute of Art.”
SJ sat up quickly. Her heart was pounding. “Yes…?” she said breathlessly. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. The rest of her life depended on this.
“We received your admission to the London Institute of Art and reviewed it carefully,” Charles Miller went on.
“And?” SJ stood up and walked nervously in a tight circle. She hadn’t realized until right then just how much she wanted this.
“And…I’m happy to tell you that you’re in,” he announced to her.
SJ shrieked, her troubles momentarily forgotten. “Seriously?! NO WAY!”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m serious.” He gave her a second to recollect herself, before bombarding her with information about the school that SJ barely heard him say. When she hung up a couple minutes later, she exhaled as she collapsed onto the couch. As delirious as her relief was, it was only momentary as everything else soon caught up again.
She couldn’t stay here, that was for sure. SJ didn’t think she could handle Dougie’s burning glares and condemning silences for the rest of the tour. She needed to get out. And now that she knew she knew she was accepted to the LIA, her future wasn’t left hanging anymore. And she was already in London—her best friend Kelsey’s house was a short cab ride from the Wembley Arena.
SJ stood up as the idea came to her and walked upstairs. Slowly, carefully, with tears still sliding down her cheeks, she packed all her clothes into her duffel bag. She knew what she had to do. There was nothing left here for her anymore. All she wanted to do now was visit her father’s grave and seriously consider what had gone wrong in her life.
In about ten minutes, SJ had tracked down all her belongings from around the bus and packed them. Except for just one thing. The portrait of Dougie that she had been working on just earlier that day. SJ unfolded it carefully and looked at it, studying it. His eyes… The portrait had only been half-finished, but his blue eyes were already complete. They stared at her now from the paper, accusing and hateful. SJ looked away, fighting back tears again. She found a piece of charcoal and scribbled on the paper, I’m sorry. Folding it again, she slid the paper under his pillow at the top bunk, where he was sure to find it. Then, she picked up her duffel bag and made her way back downstairs.
In the kitchen, SJ pulled out another sheet of paper and, after much deliberation, wrote on it, “Harry—I’ll be staying with Kelsey. Don’t worry about me, I’ll call you. Love, SJ..” She placed the note on the kitchen table where he would see it right away.
She took one last look around the tour bus. Here she had spent the best summer of her life. The summer of her and Dougie’s romance. But now it was almost September, and it was all over. Finished.
Her heart breaking, SJ turned and walked quietly out of the tourbus with her bag. And she didn’t turn back. It was over.
Dougie’s words rang in her ear. Slag. Manipulative. Bitch. She sobbed even harder. Dougie had called her a bitch many times in the past, but this was the first time it had really hurt. How could he say that to her without even giving her a chance to explain? She couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t meant to lie to him or hurt him. But that was exactly how everything had ended up.
She felt sick to her stomach, like she was going to vomit. Fucking James. If he hadn’t come back and ruined everything…But deep down she knew it was her fault too. She hadn’t been truthful with either of them, and it had all caught up with her in the end.
Her mobile suddenly rang. SJ fished it out from her jacket pocket and answered it without checking the caller ID. “If this is James fucking Stone, I never want to speak to you again! Understood, you fucking douche?” she shouted into the phone.
There was a pause. “Er…hello?” a dubious male voice asked. “Is Sarah Jane Judd available?”
Oops. Not James. SJ almost groaned. “Er, yeah, hi, speaking,” she mumbled, cursing herself.
“Right.” The man cleared his throat. “This is Charles Miller, from the London Institute of Art.”
SJ sat up quickly. Her heart was pounding. “Yes…?” she said breathlessly. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for. The rest of her life depended on this.
“We received your admission to the London Institute of Art and reviewed it carefully,” Charles Miller went on.
“And?” SJ stood up and walked nervously in a tight circle. She hadn’t realized until right then just how much she wanted this.
“And…I’m happy to tell you that you’re in,” he announced to her.
SJ shrieked, her troubles momentarily forgotten. “Seriously?! NO WAY!”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m serious.” He gave her a second to recollect herself, before bombarding her with information about the school that SJ barely heard him say. When she hung up a couple minutes later, she exhaled as she collapsed onto the couch. As delirious as her relief was, it was only momentary as everything else soon caught up again.
She couldn’t stay here, that was for sure. SJ didn’t think she could handle Dougie’s burning glares and condemning silences for the rest of the tour. She needed to get out. And now that she knew she knew she was accepted to the LIA, her future wasn’t left hanging anymore. And she was already in London—her best friend Kelsey’s house was a short cab ride from the Wembley Arena.
SJ stood up as the idea came to her and walked upstairs. Slowly, carefully, with tears still sliding down her cheeks, she packed all her clothes into her duffel bag. She knew what she had to do. There was nothing left here for her anymore. All she wanted to do now was visit her father’s grave and seriously consider what had gone wrong in her life.
In about ten minutes, SJ had tracked down all her belongings from around the bus and packed them. Except for just one thing. The portrait of Dougie that she had been working on just earlier that day. SJ unfolded it carefully and looked at it, studying it. His eyes… The portrait had only been half-finished, but his blue eyes were already complete. They stared at her now from the paper, accusing and hateful. SJ looked away, fighting back tears again. She found a piece of charcoal and scribbled on the paper, I’m sorry. Folding it again, she slid the paper under his pillow at the top bunk, where he was sure to find it. Then, she picked up her duffel bag and made her way back downstairs.
In the kitchen, SJ pulled out another sheet of paper and, after much deliberation, wrote on it, “Harry—I’ll be staying with Kelsey. Don’t worry about me, I’ll call you. Love, SJ..” She placed the note on the kitchen table where he would see it right away.
She took one last look around the tour bus. Here she had spent the best summer of her life. The summer of her and Dougie’s romance. But now it was almost September, and it was all over. Finished.
Her heart breaking, SJ turned and walked quietly out of the tourbus with her bag. And she didn’t turn back. It was over.
♠ ♠ ♠
AFTER BASICALLY THE WORST WEEK I’VE EVER HAD IN MY LIFE WHICH INCLUDED COMPLETELY BOMBING A 2 AND A HALF HOUR AP CHEM TEST AND CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER, I ABSOLUTELY EXPECT EVERY SINGLE SUBSCRIBER TO COMMENT.I’m going out with my friends tonight and when I’m back I better see some comments.
That said…believe me, it’s not over!! The sequel is going to be called We Could Have Fallen In Love and I’ve been working on it. So everyone, stay subscribed to this story because when I post the sequel, I’ll put up a chapter here with the link for those of you who can’t see my profile. And please comment because I worked really hard on this story and I wanna see what you guys think!! = ]
oh and p.s. Just a remainder, I completely made up the London Institute of Art but in this story it's supposed to be a really good arts school.