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Ihad no idea what to expect from my acting lesson with Wyatt, and I followed obediently as he led me out of the set and back to his trailer, where he unlocked the door and let me in. The smell of new upholstery hit me as I stepped inside, and I sat on one of the bench seats as he closed the door behind him.
There was a copy of the script next to the sink, and he picked it up. “Have they given you one of these yet?”
I shook my head as I took in his living quarters. His trailer was similar to Isaac’s, although where Isaac’s had few personal items and a bright interior, Wyatt’s had clothes spread over his bed, photographs on every wall, and the trailer itself was older and dimly lit.
“Is this you?”
I picked up a photo of a small blonde boy in a woman’s arms. The woman’s megawatt smile looked vaguely familiar, as though she was someone I’d seen on television several years earlier.
Wyatt’s fingers brushed over mine as he gently took the photo from my hands and replaced it with the script.
“Yes. But you need to focus on this.”
His copy of the script was in much better condition than Brooke’s — the pages were untorn and free from creases. There were dozens of blue sticky tabs protruding from the right side. I held out the manuscript, intending to give it back to him.
“They said they’d post it to me, but I don’t need it — I already know my lines.”
“That’s fine. We’ll use mine.” Wyatt sat next to me and opened it to the first scene. His dialog was marked with yellow highlighter and he’d scribbled notes in the margins.
I swallowed. It already lookedfartoo complicated for someone who’d never done this before.
“Tell me about your character.” He pointed to Daisy’s first line of dialog.
“Well,” I unfocused my eyes, which let me see the character description in my head, as clear as if I was reading it from the page. “Daisy’s in her early twenties and Tom, her ex-boyfriend, is driving her to a conference that will make or break her career as an investment banker when their car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. She’s bubbly and cute, but she doesn’t enjoy being stuck in the middle of nowhere. She’s a city girl who’s scared of bugs and spiders, and the country life isn’t for her.”
Wyatt nodded.
“That’s a good start. But that’s not what I was asking. What does Daisywant?”
My mind went blank. The script hadn’t mentioned that.
“Uh… to get back home, I guess.”
Wyatt shook his head.
“If it were that simple, she’d find a way. But she stays with Tom, even when they have to sleep in the car.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think she does that? This is the twenty-first century: it’s not like she can’t find a phone and call someone for help.”
“Uh…” I scratched the back of my neck. “She wants…” The sex scene in the third act jumped into my mind’s eye, so vivid that I blinked it away in case Wyatt could see it, too. Thank fuck it was toward the end of the movie, so I wouldn’t have to film it for a few weeks. “Tom?”
“Bingo.” Wyatt gave me a sexy grin, and for the first time, I noticed he had dimples. “Now you’re getting it.”
But I didn’t feel like I was. “How does that help me?”
“Now that you know what’s motivating her,” Wyatt said, “you can work out the subtext in each line of dialog.”
I didn’t know what he meant, but I didn’t want him to think I was dumb, so I nodded. Wyatt opened a drawer and pulled out a pink highlighter. “Here’s an example,” he said as he pointed at the top of the page.
EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY
DAISYwalks down the center of the road whileTOMleans against their broken-down car. The road is deserted: there are no passing cars and no pedestrians.DAISYstops walking and turns back toTOM.
DAISY
What the hell are we supposed to do now?
I could feel Wyatt watching me as he highlighted Daisy’s dialog.
“How would you say this line?”
