Look for the Girl With the Broken Smile

SJ started with Danny the very next day. Partly because he offered to go first, but also because SJ decided to go in alphabetical order. SJ set up all her art supplies—her brand-new pack of charcoal, the Dry Media white drawing paper, sandpaper to use when she wanted to sand the charcoal to a point, pencils, erasers, and her precious pack of Prismacolor colored pencils, though she was pretty sure she as only going to use charcoal—in the tiny room next to the sleeping area. Before they started, SJ warned Danny that he would have to sit for her for a while. Danny didn't mind, but SJ was still worried he wouldn't have the attention span to sit for so long.

But Danny, bless him, sat for two hours straight without complaining. While she drew him, he amused them both with compltely random stories, so SJ drew him the way she knew him best—laughing, with a big, happy grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes.

SJ finished Danny's portrait in less than two days. SJ was pleased with how it turned out, but she refused to show it to him, insisting he wait until all the other portraits were done.

SJ then moved on to Harry, blatantly skipping Dougie in her so-called alphabetical order. On the tourbus, between shows, while everyone was sleeping, SJ worked almost non-stop. It paid off. In about a week, she had finished Danny, Harry, and Tom's portraits. All she had left was Dougie. And that was something SJ was definitely not looking forward to. She could barely look at him on a regular basis, how was she going to manage sitting in a cramped room staring at him for hours?

The day she planned to start, she ventured down to the TV room, where Danny, Harry, Tom and Dougie were all hanging out.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with their presence!" Harry joked at the sight of SJ.

"Shut up, Harry," SJ said, but she was smiling as she sat down next to her cousin.

"So how's it going?" Tom asked.

"I think, incredibly, I might finish the portfolio on time," SJ answered. "All I have left to do is that kid." She nodded in the direction of Dougie.

"Oh, so now I've been demoted to 'that kid'"? Dougie muttered.

"When are you gonna show us how they turned out?" Danny whined.

"When I finish," SJ told him patiently. Her phone rang before Danny could complain again, and she checked the caller ID. It was her best friend Kelsey. "Hey Kel!" she answered happily. "Alright?"

"Yeah I'm good, you?" Kelsey replied.

"Not bad." SJ had already told Kelsey about her application problem when they had talked the day before. "How was that party you went to last night?"

"Er...that's what I called you about," Kelsey answered.

"What?" SJ examined her nails. She really needed a manicure.

"The party." Kelsey sounded nervous. "Er...James was there..."

"Right, and...?" SJ didn't see what Kelsey was trying to say. James was her boyfriend, true, but it wasn't like he couldn't go to parties without her.

"He hooked up with someone."

"What?' SJ almost yelped. No one in the room paid attention, except out of the corner of her eye she saw Dougie looking at her curiously. She lowered her voice. "What?"

"There was this girl, this total Eurotrash girl that Red had brought with him, and James was all over her," Kelsey said in a rush. "I saw them going into a room together and..." Her voice trailed off delicately.

SJ felt like she couldn't breath for a minute.

"SJ, are you okay?" Kelsey asked, worried.

"I—I—I can't—" SJ struggled with her words. "That bastard!"

"I'm sorry, SJ."

When SJ hung up, Harry was looking at her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," SJ snapped, even though everything was far from okay. How could James do this to her? How could he mess with some European skank the minute she turned her back. "How long until we get to Birmingham?"

"About fifteen, twenty minutes," Tom answered her.

SJ stood up. "You, Poynter. Upstairs, now," she ordered.

Dougie looked up. "Why?"

"Why do you fucking think? I have a portfolio to finish!" SJ didn't care if she was being unnecessarily aggressive; she was angry.

Dougie followed her up. "Alright, no need to yell," he muttered.

"Sit down," SJ told him. He sat obediently on the couch as SJ took her place across the table from him. "And don't talk," she added irritably.

For the next ten minutes, he was silent and SJ sketched with a fervor. Usually drawing calmed SJ down, but this time she could feel rage boiling in her with every stroke she made. She pressed down so hard on her charcoal that it snapped in half, the remains bouncing off the table to the ground. SJ sighed and chose out another stick.

"You're upset," Dougie remarked quietly.

"No shit, Sherlock." She wasn't just upset, she was furious.

"Why?"

"Why do you care?" SJ shot back. "Why can't you just shut the hell up like I told you to?"

"I'm doing you a favor by sitting here, SJ, you don't need to bite my head off," Dougie told her sourly.

SJ clenched her fists in an attempt to keep control. "Poynter—"

"And anyway, I'm sure I had nothing to do with whatever happened, so you shouldn't take it out on me. Are you PMS-ing?" he added obnoxiously.

That was it for SJ. "Do you really want to know what happened?" SJ was seething. "I just found out that my boyfriend cheated on my with some skank. Are you happy now?" She crumbled up the paper she had been drawing on and threw it to the ground. Then, feeling as though she was going to cry, she ran downstairs. They had already reached the arena and were parked outside. Without a word to anyone, SJ grabbed her phone and left the tourbus to the parking lot.

"Hello?" James' voice sounded groggy.

"James, it's me."

"Oh. Uh, hi." Was it just SJ, or did he sound distinctly guilty?

"Listen, James." SJ didn't wast any time getting to the point. "Did you hook up with another girl last night?"

There was a pause, then he said, "Look, SJ, I'm a bit hungover right now, can we talk about this later?"

"Just answer the question!"

There was another, longer pause. "Well...er...there was this girl," he mumbled.

"And did you—?" SJ was afraid to ask.

James sighed. "I was drunk."

"So you slept with her?" SJ shouted.

"I—well—I—I was drunk!" James said again defensively.

"It doesn't sound any better of an excuse the second time," SJ said scathingly. "Did you maybe not remember once the entire night that you have a girlfriend?"

"What about you?" James demanded.

"What about me?" SJ stared unseeingly at the outside of the arena.

"How bout how you're the only girl on tour with a bunch of guys?" James' tone was harsh.

"What are you trying to say?" SJ's breath caught in her throat.

"I'm sure they've been having lots of fun with you," came his answer.

SJ clutched the phone, shocked. "I can't believe you would say that," she whispered.

His tone softened. "SJ, I'm sorry—"

"No," she said flatly. She wasn't going to accept his apology. "Don't call me."

"SJ, please—"

She hung up. Tears streaming down her face, she turned around.

Dougie was standing a few feet away from her, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was just watching her.

SJ wiped her tears. "You stalker," she mustered the energy to say before walking back to the tourbus.