Look for the Girl With the Broken Smile

A week passed on tour. SJ filed the bus incident to the back of her mind, one of those things she stored away to pull out and use against Dougie during arguments. Like the time he broke her wrist when they were fifteen. Or how when she was seventeen he told her that her beloved cat had been run over (ironically, her cat did die a couple months later). SJ was beginning to form a kind of routine on tour with McFly. She would wake up early, earlier than any of the boys, and take a quick shower. Tom would be the second person to wake up, and they would have a cup of tea together. When everyone else managed to stumble out of bed, they would figure out what to have for breakfast. Usually it was cereal or, sometimes, pancakes or muffins. On the days they didn't have a show, they would drive the whole day and waste time playing with the Wii. By noon, if they were stopping somewhere, they would have reached the arena. SJ would accompany them to their soundchecks, they would have lunch, then do a second soundcheck, and then hang around backstage untill it was time.

SJ would watch the show from the side. They put on amazing concerts. The crowd went crazy for them. It was clear to SJ that they all truly loved performing. And Danny had been right—she was having a great time.

SJ was outside the tourbus, talking to Harry and some fans when it happened. Dougie snuck up behind her and dumped an entire bucket of freezing cold water on her head.

"Ahh!" SJ shrieked. She turned and saw it was Dougie. "Poynter! What—what—what the fuck?"

Dougie was smirking. "Sorry, SJ. The opportunity was too good to miss."

SJ was too furious to talk. Harry took over. "Dougie, please...apologize," he said wearily.

"What? No! You never make her apologize to me!"

"Maybe that's because I don't throw buckets of freezing cold water on you," SJ hissed at him. She shivered.

"Yeah, well, you're a non-stop bitch to me," Dougie snapped back.

Harry sighed. "Okay, guys. SJ, I'm going to go in and get you a towel. Just stay here—try not to kill each other—" At his words, the two fans edged back.

SJ looked away from Dougie and squeezed her hair. Water dripped everywhere. She was wearing one of her favorite dresses, a white summer dress from Topshop. She hoped it wouldn't be ruined now. She tried to wring out some of the water when she heard Dougie and Danny snicker. She looked up. "What?"

"Nice bra," Dougie commented.

SJ looked down quickly. Absolutely soaked, the dress had turned completely see-through. And she was wearing a bright purple bra.

SJ almost blushed. But then she pulled herself together and shot a glare at Dougie. "You really wanna see my bra, Poynter?" She slipped down the straps and wiggled the dress down until her bra was completely exposed. "How bout that?"

Danny whistled. Dougie turned red. SJ smirked.

"Here, SJ—what the hell?" Harry came out wth the towel, then stopped and stared at her. "I told you not to kill Dougie, not to start taking your clothes off! French people," he muttered. "Stripping whenever they feel like it."

"Just give me the towel." SJ rolled her eyes.

Ten minutes later, SJ had dried off and as sitting in the tourbus, sipping from the tea Tom had kindly made for her, when the next bad thing happened.

Her phone rang. She checked the caller ID. She didn't recognize the number. "Guys, can you calm down for a minute?" she called to Harry and Danny, who were loudly shouting at the Wii screen. Harry paused the game. "Thanks." She answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Sarah Jane Judd?" a calm male voice asked.

"Er..speaking." SJ felt a little nervous. The last time a strange man had called her and said those exact words had been when a police officer rang her to break the news of her father's car accident. SJ tried to push that mmory out of her head.

"Hello, I'm Charles Miller, I review admissions for the London Institute of Art," the man told her.

SJ relaxed a little. "Oh." But then she felt another kind of nervous flutter. Was this when she found out if she had been accepted or rejected? "Yes?"

The man coughed. "We're calling to, ah...Well, there's been a problem with your application."

"What kind of problem?" SJ asked sharply.

"Well, ah..." He cleared his throat. "Your portfolio's been lost."

SJ almost couldn't speak for a minute. "My portfolio's been lost?" she repeated. She'd worked hard all year on her art portfolio to send in with her application. And now it was lost?

"Misplaced," he corrected hurriedly. "See, ah, we're quite sure it arrived with your application. But then, after a couple of days in the office, it disappeared."

"So...so, what does this mean?" SJ asked. Was there no chance for her to get in the school?

"Well, since it was, er, the office's fault it was misplaced, w're giving you another chance." Another cough. SJ clutched the phone, listening carefully. "There are still two openings remaining. If you can make a new portfolio, with a minimum of four pieces, and send it in, we'll consider you for one of the openings."

"By when do I need to send the portfolio?" SJ was almost afraid to ask.

He gave her a date. "That's only two weeks away!" she exclaimed, horrified.

"I'm sorry for the circumstances, but it was all we could do," he said apologetically.

"Okay, well...thank you," SJ said distractedly. Whn she hung up, she burried her face in her hands. How was she supposed to make a brand-new portfolio in two weeks?

"What's wrong?" Harry asked her.

SJ looked up. She had forgotten Harry and Danny were still in the room. She was about to answer when an idea suddenly came to her.

She needed four pieces. She could do portraits...four portraits. Of Harry, Danny, Tom, and yes, even Dougie.

Good thing she brought all her art supplies.