Page 9 of The One Before

“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?”

“Maybe.” She chuckles and takes another sip of her drink. “Thing is, I’ve never liked her. I couldn’t give two shits about her tarnished reputation. That’s what we do in Whisper. We choose our side and defend it to the death.”

I roll my eyes again. Regina will take some getting used to, but there’s truth in what she says. I think of Misty’s reaction to meeting me, praising my arrival, compared to Bridgette’s callous dismissal. This town certainly takes sides. I close my eyes and focus on the gentle sound of water lapping against the shore, trying not to let the ugliness of this place tarnish what beauty exists.

Six

June 16, 2006

Celia’s shift ended at six, when the lake closed to the public. People could still congregate there, and did, but they were no longer under the watchful eye of the Whisper Falls Guard. She put the whistle to her lips and blew, signaling to the remaining swimmers it was time to exit and find a spot further down the bank.

When the water was clear, she strung the flimsy chain blocking off her section of beach and folded the flaps of her lifeguard stand. She filled out her hours by hand and left the clipboard hanging from the back of the chair for Ronnie, her boss, to find in the morning. When she arrived at the gravel lot, there were only two cars remaining: her purple Civic, and Cooper’s shiny black truck. He leaned against his vehicle, thumbing his iPod.

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