My eyes follow her outstretched finger. The woman she’s brought to my attention is standing, holding a poster that reads Go Cats. I nod.
“That’s Kim Fuller. She’s the elementary school principal. She’s always posting inflammatory statements on social media. All this alt-right stuff to get people riled up. Her husband is sleeping with the school librarian, and everyone in town knows it but her.”
She turns and nods toward a man standing near a huddle of cheerleaders. “That’s Gary. He owns a car dealership and has a rap sheet a mile long. People say he’s a little too friendly with the teenagers, if you catch my drift. That’s why his second wife left him.”
I shake my head, struggling to connect faces to this influx of information. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You need to know things about people when you live in Whisper, otherwise you won’t know who to trust.” She sips through her straw and nods somewhere else. “The skinny guy with the faded letterman jacket? He’s a known CI for the cops.”
I only half-listen as Regina talks. I absorb my surroundings, trying to determine where I fit in amongst all these people. I wonder where Coop fits, too, or at least, how he once did. In his youth, was he an athletic idol storming the field? Did Celia cheer him on from the purple and black platform to my right? By the time Regina has pointed out a former stripper, a pill dealer and a disgraced policeman, I’ve had enough.
“Look, I didn’t come here for this,” I say, crossing my arms.
“Why did you come here?” And I can tell she’s not asking about the game. She’s talking about here. Whisper.
“Because I love Coop. We’re building a life together. I have no interest in these strangers’ secrets.”
She crinkles her nose. “Aren’t you, like, a writer or something? You dig up people’s dirt for a living.”
“I am a real journalist. I was a…” My frustrations prevent me from finishing. My skin burns hot, and not just from the large field lamp hovering overhead. “You know what? I’m leaving.”
Regina leans further into the fence. “Where are you going? It’s not like we have Uber.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
I march past the band as they rip a tune. The stadium chatter lessens as I re-enter the parking lot. It dawns on me I really am out of options. I hear footsteps behind me picking up pace and then see Regina, popcorn bag still in hand.
“Come on, city girl. You can’t call it a night yet.” She jingles her keys. “Let’s go. I’ve got another place to show you.”
We barely speak as she drives away from town and the paved streets turn to dust. Before long, the headlights stretch over Whisper Lake. She parks the car in a grassy spot by the water.
“If it were summer, I’d have all sorts of spots to show you,” she says. “The lake is the only part of Whisper that doesn’t irk me.”
“What are we doing now?” I feel like her game isn’t yet finished.
She pulls out a bottle of bourbon and clear cups that look like they’ve been lifted from a motel nightstand. “The only thing there is to do in Whisper. Drink and stare at nothing and talk shit.”
She pours a gulp’s worth into my cup and hands it over. I pause before downing the shot.
“Atta girl,” she says, stepping out of the car. I join her. A gust of wind blows past us, cooling the heat underneath my skin. We’re surrounded by darkness, the chirping of crickets in the trees and the sound of soft ripples in the nearby water.
“If you’re so miserable living in Whisper Falls, why don’t you just leave?” I ask. Clearly, she isn’t happy here, and after a week of isolation interspersed with clumsy introductions, I can see why.
“Some people have no choice but to stay.”
“I don’t buy that. You, your brothers… you have options. Education. Money. You act like you’re being forced to stay. You’re not.”
“All that stuff comes attached to the purse strings. You think I’d be able to afford culinary school on my own? Or that Cooper would be able to run his own newspaper? It comes with being a Douglas. Even if it sucks sometimes, it’d be pointless to give all that up.”
I look across the lake, watching as the moon reflects on the water, a single cylinder of light. I’ve never felt more distant from Regina, or Coop. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be given what the rest of the world struggles to obtain, and still bottle such bitterness. It’s difficult to tell whether Regina likes me. More than anything, I think she’s been lonely for a long time, making it difficult for her to connect with anyone. The only reason she’s survived in this town is because she’s a Douglas, a fact we both know, and she resents.
“I really want to be happy here,” I admit. “I’m trying.”
“You’re different from the others.” For once, she looks sincere, pushing back the long black strands around her face. “I can tell you love Cooper, not just the dollar signs.”
“Were others after dollar signs?” I ask, wondering what she’s getting at. I’m well versed when it comes to Coop’s dating history, but I don’t know how many exes he’s introduced to his family.
“One or two.” She takes a big gulp. We both stare at the water, as if it’s pulling our gaze, forcing us to think. Asking us its questions.
“What was she like?” I ask.
“Who?”
“Celia.”
She smirks. “Hasn’t he told you?”
“He told me about what happened, not much else.” I wonder where on this lake her body was found. If it floated near the bank where we currently stand. “Do people bring her up a lot? Like Bridgette did tonight?”
“They usually aren’t so forward. Some people, like Bridgette, would rather relish in the drama.”
We’re silent for several seconds. There are questions I want to ask her, things I want to know. Things that, for whatever reason, Coop has never felt comfortable telling me.
“Like I said, he doesn’t talk about what happened.”
“Even if he did, he wouldn’t tell the truth.” She finishes her cup and clears her throat. “Celia was a wicked bitch.”
“Regina! She was a teenager who died.”
“So? Good people die every day.”
I roll my eyes at Regina’s boorish outlook. “How bad can someone be at seventeen?”
“Have you been seventeen?” She laughs, folding her arms across her chest. “Celia was cruel to everyone she ever met. Probably had her eyes set on Cooper since she was in elementary school. I don’t think he ever appreciated the bullet he dodged when she died.”
“Coop told me she was popular. That her death changed people.”
She laughs. “Told you he wouldn’t tell the truth. Celia was nothing like the saintly image this town has resurrected. You can’t believe everything you hear.”
It’s interesting how quickly Regina has dropped her earlier role as a gossipmonger. Only an hour ago, she delighted in telling me all her neighbors’ secrets. “Should I believe the things you said tonight? About Bridgette sleeping with half the basketball team?”