Page 5 of Beyond the Fame

Middle school was brutal. The teasing got worse the weirder I got. The day I became the laughingstock for wearing my bright unicorn T-shirt with mismatched cat-print pants to class, I went straight home and threw that outfit away. I didn’t stop there. I tore my pretty pink wedding dress—which no longer fit me—to shreds. I divorced all my stuffed animal husbands, including Wyatt the giraffe, Henry the elephant, Sheila the kangaroo, Gregory the tiger, Perry the platypus, and even Leon the rabbit.

I ripped all my fantasy posters down from my bedroom walls and dug into my allowance stashed in a shoebox under my bed. I rode my bicycle down to the Dollar General and bought all the teeny bop magazines in stock and replaced the silly posters with ones of boys the pretty popular girls fawned over during lunch: the boys with swooshing blond or black hair, dark blue eyes, and flirty expressions.

I also bought a stack of fashion magazines. I circled outfits similar to what the popular girls wore and showed my mom, begging her to take me shopping.

She was more than thrilled because I’d never shown an interest in spending ‘girl time’—as she liked to call it—with my mother. We didn’t have much money, so I was surprised she bought me fifteen new outfits that day. She made me promise not to tell Dad we racked up hundreds of dollars on a credit card at the mall in Little Rock.

I wore my new outfits to school, and by the end of eighth grade, I had worked my way into the ‘it’ crowd. My popularity only grew when I got to high school, mostly because of my brother’s reputation.

Tyler Taylor was the star quarterback of the Silo Springs High School football team. He was royalty, ruling the school alongside his cheerleader girlfriend, Lana Young.

Word got around that I was Tyler’s sister, and suddenly, every girl wanted to be my friend. It was obviously because of him. Still, I didn’t mind. I was no longer the strange girl with the strange imagination and strange clothes. I was getting invited to parties, shopping trips at the mall, movie nights, and weekend sleepovers. Of course, all the sleepovers were at my house on the off chance they’d run into my brother when he’d make the drive home from college to visit.

The fascination with my brother lasted throughout my high school years as his success on the Arkansas State University football team grew. He'd always get featured on the news during their sports reports. My brother was a local celebrity, and while I always knew he was special, I was ecstatic everyone else was finally seeing his brilliance.

Senior year of high school, my girlfriends and I would make the three-hour drive to Jonesboro for Friday night home games to watch Tyler play. After the game, we’d sneak into frat parties and get drunk, make-out with college boys, and crash at Lana and Tyler’s apartment.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Tyler collapsed on the football field.

My brother was diagnosed with cancer.

And six months later, he died.

All my life I was known as Tyler’s sister—always a second thought, always cast aside and forgotten. Then I became the sister of the college football star who died.

He was my best friend. He was the one who’d officiate all my fake weddings. He’d let me chase him around the woods behind our home, pretending to be the bad guy, and I was a spy assigned to arrest him. He’d dress up with me in colorful costumes when I wanted to play an alien queen coming to conquer the human lands.

He’s the reason I never wanted to be a pretty princess.

Why be a princess when you can be a queen?

He was confused when I stopped playing pretend and traded the costumes for the fashionable outfits. Yet, he supported me in whatever adventure I chose for my life. He was always supportive—always observant. He saw everything. Even when he came home from college to visit, and my so-called friends ignored me to chat with him. He told me I shouldn’t let them treat me like that. I should never be someone’s second choice. I told him I didn’t care. I didn’t. At least, that’s what I convinced myself. Did it hurt to be pushed into the shadows while my perfect brother shined brightly? Yes, but that small boost I got when people paid me attention hoping Tyler would pay them attention was all I needed.

No, that’s not true.

All I needed was Tyler. He made everything better. He was the only one to light up my dark days.

Before he left for college, Tyler would write me notes and hide them in my backpack. It was the first thing I’d look for in first period.

Sometimes there’d be jokes.

How do you make a tissue dance? Put a little boogie in it.

That was the first ever note he wrote me. I laughed so hard; I almost peed my pants.

Most of the time, the quotes were encouraging.

You are worth it. Kick ass today.

You’re a badass, don’t forget it. Make today your bitch.

You’re my favorite sister in the entire world. Oh, shit. You’re my only sister. Statement still stands.

Yeah, he cursed a lot.

Tyler was the only one who saw me. When he died, a part of me disappeared with him. Who would see me now? Definitely not my parents. It’s almost as if they forgot they had two children. As if they forgot one was still alive. As if the child who died was the wrong one.

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