Page 57 of One Happy Summer

“Okay,” Briggs says. “Next line.”

“Give me a hint,” I say, giving him my best sheepish grin. I guess it’s good I’m prepping now, just in case.

“Listen here, Falgon—”

“Got it,” I say, cutting him off before he gives too much away. I take in a big inhale. “Listen here, Falgon. We don’t need to know anything about the Syndarians. All we need to do is go in there and obliterate them. And if you don’t think I can lead this team, then you can get back on your lunastrider and go back to Arcturus.”

“Nailed it,” Briggs says, with a sort of proud-looking dip of his chin. Then he scrunches his nose, before pushing his glasses up. “What’s a lunastrider?”

“It’s like a horse, but bigger and scarier,” I say.

“That sounds cool. Do you get to ride one?”

“Of course. But for me it will be riding a mechanical rig against a green screen, and my lunastrider will be done with CGI in postproduction.”

“You ruin all the magic.”

“You’re welcome.”

We’re smiling at each other now. We’ve been doing that a lot lately. Especially since we’ve been on our own the past few days because Scout hasn’t been able to babysit us since our afternoon of beach volleyball. So, we had to do the bike ride to the lighthouse and the boogie boarding the day before on our own.

I knew that’s why Briggs invited Scout along, even though he didn’t tell me so. But after we kissed that last time, suddenly Scout was joining us on our summer activities. I don’t mind—she’s a great kid. But I’ve also enjoyed these past couple of days without her.

Briggs snaps out of our unintentional staring contest first. He looks down at the script.

“Okay,” he says. “Where were we?” He scans down the document with a finger until he finds it, tapping on the dialogue where we left off.

He clears his throat. “I don’t like your ways, Callis.”

I think for a second before the line comes to me. “You don’t have to like them; you just have to let me lead.”

“Good. Okay, so it says that next Callis takes a step forward and puts her hand on Falgon’s chest,” Briggs says, reading the direction.

“Right. And then the next line is . . . hold on, don’t tell me,” I say, holding out a hand and closing my eyes, trying to remember. I open them when the words come to me, and I start pacing again as I recite them.

“I need you to trust me, Falgon. You’re second in command, but the team looks to you before me. If you show them you trust me, then they will also trust me.”

“I want to trust you,” Briggs says, reading Falgon’s line, attempting to use the deep baritone voice as he reads.

“I . . .” I stop talking, trying to think of what’s next. I only studied it a bit when I first arrived here, so I should cut myself some slack. Still, this is something I’m usually good at.

“What’s next?” I ask him.

He looks down at the script. “Then . . . Falgon leans in and kisses Callis.”

“Right,” I say, with a nod. “And then the next line is . . .” I stop to try to remember what happens after the kiss.

“Do you . . . need to practice that part?” Briggs asks.

“What part?” I say, pinching my brows together.

“The . . . kiss?” He lifts a shoulder, briefly. “I mean, if you need to practice that, we could . . . I could . . .” He stops talking.

“Yes,” I say, quickly. “I could definitely use some help with that.”

Presley James, you naughty woman.

I’m lying. This is a lie. I’ve never needed to practice a kiss while running lines in my entire career. But if Briggs is putting a kiss on the table under the guise of practicing for this movie with me, then I’m not passing it up.

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