XAVIER
I stare at the script like it’s written in another language.
""Oh, my heart is cleft with longing…"" I mutter the line, then pause. "Seriously, who even talks like this?"
Beatrice doesn't say anything right away. She's sitting a few feet from me on the edge of a riser, legs crossed, arms loosely around her knees. Watching. Quiet, like always. It’s maddening.
I glance at her. "You could help, you know."
She lifts a shoulder. "I don't know much about acting."
"Pretty sure you know more than me."
I try again. My voice sounds stiff. Every word lands like a dead weight on the ground. ""Return to me, fair soul, and mend this sundered bond.""
Beatrice lets out a breath--soft, but clearly holding back a laugh.
I shoot her a look. "What?"
"Nothing," she says, smiling faintly. "You
