when all else fails // t.s.

Prologue

School registration is a pain. Sitting in a dumb office while flipping through a positive child care magazine isn't my slice of heaven.  

School staff members are a bit too perky for me. All they care about is plumping up their monthly paychecks by getting you to sign a few sheets. I can tell the secretary here is saving up for that new iPhone, because the only things she's said to me are "Hello, dear," "Take a seat and we'll be right with you," and "Your phone case is quite lovely, darling." I'm telling you, I've been called endearing terms more than my own name. Last person who called me my real name was Andrea, when she said her final "I love you," to me.

I remember the day I left my birth parents. My sister Hayden recorded it on her old flip phone and I watch it almost every night before I go to sleep. My birth parents did what I would have never been strong enough to do. They gave me up. They did what was best for me, despite their feelings. Andrea and Scott didn't want me caught up in my big sister Taylor's music career. They wanted me to live a happy and free life.  

So, to the rest of the world, I'm Kylie Tanner, but in my head, I know I'm Kylie Swift. At my old school, kids eventually found out about my real name and called me as "K-Swiz." Every time Taylor did something, I apparently had something to do with it. "Ooh, Taylor's dating Jake Gyllenhaal. I bet Kylie set them up," one kid said. For weeks I was taunted with matchmaking requests. That was the worst time at my school. After that, I begged my mom to switch me.  

One time, in seventh grade, I had my first boyfriend. "Following your sister's footsteps?" They'd ask. "Watch, two more days and K-Swiz will be dating Peter, and by May she'll be all the way down to Nerdy Nathan." And by three o'clock PM that day, five hours since Stanley Paul asked me out, I got a text declaring the end of our relationship.  

I wish I could see Andrea and Scott again. I wish I could be Kylie Swift, no questions asked. But right now I seem like a girl disguising herself, or to others, a girl lying about her true identity for attention. I don't know who I am, but I intend to find out. That's why the school I'm registering for is in the heart and center of Nashville, Tennessee.