Page 43 of Shine For Me

Fox

Igive June fifteen minutes to change and get settled before I knock on her door. She opens it looking much the same as she did this morning—dressed in sweats with her hair in a messy knot on top of her head. She’s not wearing her glasses, though, which makes me feel inexplicably disappointed.

“You got some sun today,” I murmur, reaching out to press a fingertip to her red cheek.

She makes a face. “You should see my shoulders. Makeup is going to kill me tomorrow.”

“It’s my fault. I should have been better about reminding you to put on sunscreen.”

She waves a hand. “I’m a grown adult, Fox. I shouldn’t need someone to remind me to wear sunscreen.” She turns and walks into the room, leaving me to follow. The back of her neck is red, too, and I curse under my breath. Regardless of what she said, I still feel like a dick for not making sure she was safe out there.

She goes straight to the couch in the living area of her suite, swinging her feet up onto the coffee table and reaching for her script. “I did the first two pages already,” she says. “I’m just recording into a voice memo app on my phone. Does that work?”

“Uh, yeah. That works great.”

“Should I be doing my lines, too? Or leave time in between your lines?”

“My mom usually just does a slight pause between lines. That seems to work.”

“Great.” She holds her phone up near her mouth while I take a seat on the other end of the couch. She runs a finger along the script, looking for her spot. Then she takes a breath and presses record, her clear, smooth voice filling the room.

The scene we’re working on tomorrow is an emotional one. Our characters have been stranded in a beach house during a bad storm and they use the time alone together to share their deepest, darkest secrets. The scene is supposed to end with their first kiss.

It won’t be the first time I kiss June on screen. I was crazy nervous the first time it happened, but June took me out for a drink the night before and assured me there was nothing to worry about. “It’s not like a real kiss. It’s more awkward than anything else, with a director sitting there dictating your tiniest movements and a camera up in your face. Not the slightest bit romantic.”

She’d been right—our first on screen kiss didn’t feel all the different from any other bit of blocking we’d had to shoot. We’d had a fairly tame love scene in that same movie and that, too, felt more awkward than anything. It’s hard to feel any hint of intimacy with a director shouting out demands. “Fox, move your hand an inch higher. June, tilt your head to the left. Pause right there and let out a sigh—no, not that loud. Asubtlesigh.”

Yeah. My job is really freaking weird.

“Was that okay?” June asks, and I realize that I wasn’t even paying attention to her reading. I was too busy staring at her mouth and reminiscing about making out with her on set.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, trying to shake the husky note in my voice. “That’s great.”

I force myself to look at my script as she continues. It only takes her about ten minutes to get through all the lines. Then she sends me the voice file. “There. That’s everything.”

I shake my head. “Damn, June. I owe you so big.”

She waves off my thanks. “Don’t be silly. So what’s next?”

“Usually I’ll listen through a few times while I look at the script. After that the words start to stick. Then I can practice reading them myself.”

She nods. “Okay. How about you do that now and then I can read with you once you’re ready.”

I blink at her. I’d kind of assumed she’d want to get back to relaxing now that I had the recording. Instead she’s just looking at me with wide, interested eyes. Like she finds my process fascinating, rather than embarrassing.

I swallow, some of the shame I usually carry over this shit lifting from my chest. “That would be great. If you’re up for it.”

So I pull out my ear buds and playback her reading while I go through my lines. I thought it would feel uncomfortable, to have her sitting there watching me read. But she focuses on her own script while I listen, apparently starting to memorize her lines. The first time through, I follow along to her reading on the paper. The next time, I close my eyes and just listen. By the third time, the words are settling into my brain, their meaning clear.

I decide to listen once more, anyhow. And I tell myself it doesn’t have anything to do with how nice it is to have June’s clear, sweet voice in my ear.

“You want to read together now?” I ask once I’m done.

“Definitely.”

We go through the entire scene three times. By the time we’re finished, I feel more prepared for filming tomorrow than I have this entire shoot. “You’ve got a magic voice, or something,” I tell her. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever gotten off-book.”

I’m pretty sure she flushes, but it’s hard to tell with her sunburn. A sunburn that’s looking even worse than it did when I got here. “You should put something on that,” I tell her.