What are you doing up?
I jumped at the sound of my facebook messenger pinging. I looked down and saw Courtney’s name, my friend from church. Right below the message I saw that it was already two in the morning. I typed back.
I’m done with school for the year. I don’t have to be up in the morning.
That wasn’t the whole truth. I rubbed my eyes, suddenly noticing how dry and tired they were. I had been on the computer for hours without quite realizing that time was slipping away into the night. My computer pinged again.
You’re homeschooled, weirdo. You don’t ever have to be up in the morning.
I smirked, wondering why she cared so much, and decided quickly not to try and convince her that in order to be done with my schoolwork at a reasonable hour every day, I actually did have to get up fairly early. I logged out of facebook without saying goodbye, and my eyes fell back to the fansite that I had been scouring moments before. A few hours ago, I had composed a message to send to whoever ran the site that was completely honest and transparent. I typed out that I was Hanson’s younger sister, Zoe, and I, as well as my older brothers, felt very uncomfortable with their inclusion of the pictures from the treatment center.
I was about to hit send when I realized how pathetic that made me look. I didn’t want anyone to think that I spent my downtime looking at fansites for my older brothers. I had my own life. I deleted the whole message and began again, this time anonymously. I sent it, and the website automatically went back to the homepage. Suddenly I couldn’t stop scrolling.
My brothers had been famous for as long as I had been alive. I didn’t know, when I was much younger, that not everyone had older siblings whose faces were plastered all over young girls’ walls. It was just…normal for me. But because of their long career, there seemed to be an infinite amount of pictures and words to look at, and I knew that this was only one website out of many. There were pictures of the band, but also of Nikki, Natalie, and Kate. There were pictures of all the kids throughout the years, pictures of Avery with girls (followed by paragraphs of speculation), and a few pictures of me from my instagram. It was public, after all, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. I wondered what the fans thought of me.
I hadn’t realized how long I had been scrolling and clicking until Courtney messaged me, and I realized that I should probably just go to bed. I would check back tomorrow to see if the pictures had been taken down.
I also made a note to take a few good pictures tomorrow for my instagram, to give them something new to post. The last picture of me they had was from weeks ago.
***
“Wow, I thought I was the only child in the family that could sleep past noon,” Mackie said as I wandered down to the kitchen. “What’s up, sleeping beauty?”
“Oh just taking advantage of the summer, I guess,” I replied, rubbing my eyes and gazing over at the kitchen clock. “Hey, it’s only 12:15, cut me some slack.”
Mackie chuckled in response and went back to composing a text. I sat down next to him after I poured myself a bowl of cereal. “Brunch,” I muttered towards him, hoping for a laugh. I swirled my spoon around in the bowl, realizing now that the food was in front of me, that I didn’t have much of an appetite. “Hey Mac?” I said quietly, and he perked up to meet my eyes.
“Yep.”
“Have you ever seen any of the fansites?”
“What, like Hanson sites? Yeah. When I was younger I would look at them. It’s like a rabbit hole we all have to go down at least once in our lives.”
“So Jessie and Ave too?”
“Yeah…I remember Avie and I went on a pretty long binge session one time when I was like…I don’t know…13 maybe? I don’t really remember. But it’s addictive. I would check them a lot back then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“No reason, just wondering. I stumbled on one last night.”
“Stumbled or went looking?” Mac said, with a knowing gaze. I knew that if I tried to lie, he would figure it out right away.
“I went looking. You know me.”
“I do know you, better than most. I would say to stay off of them.”
“I mean…obviously.”
Mac went back to his phone and once I could tell he was distracted enough not to notice, I trashed my cereal and put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. I poured myself a cup of coffee, a habit I was probably too young to already have, and went back upstairs. I figured I should probably get ready for the day since it was already after noon. It had taken me no time at all to regret telling Mac that I had spent time on that website last night. I wished I hadn’t, but it was so hard to keep anything from my brother. He knew everything about me. He was always the first one I called when I had some little bit of information, or the first one I texted when I felt annoyed at other family members. I stood looking in my full length mirror, fussing with my hair until it laid just right, when mom walked in with a laundry basket.
“I’m doing lights,” she announced to my shamefully messy room. “You should clean.”
“I’m going to today,” I replied quickly, deciding that very second to tidy up. I scrambled around to find clothes I wanted washed and dumped them in the basket.
“You slept pretty late, are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just stayed up late watching TV. It’s summer now.”
“I guess you’re right, just don’t make it a habit.”
“Oh, I won’t, Mom. I promise.”
Mom turned and walked out of the room. I was so often told that I was just like her, not just in looks, but in personality as well. My mother was strong and stubborn and definitely the leader of our family, and for whatever reason, I had a crippling need for her approval. Always. Maybe it was the homeschooling, but I needed her to be proud of me, which is certainly why I started tattling at such a young age. I would rat my siblings out whenever they did anything questionable, and that was rewarded with a smile and nod. When I was ten, there was so much to tell my mother about Avery. So much so, that later in life I would look back and realized I ruined the promise of a perfectly good friendship with my sister in order to be my mother’s minion. Maybe it was because I knew how hard she worked to keep everyone happy, or at least to make them appear happy. Maybe it was because I knew my older brothers (especially Mac) were far from the perfect children. Maybe it was because Zac had been so broken, and had admitted to it, something that people in my family simply didn’t do. Maybe it was because Avery had broken her heart a few years ago, sending her into a spiral of panic and prayer, not to mention days of damage control to try and stifle the rumors that flared up around town. I never wanted her to cry over me or my choices. I wanted her to be proud of me. I needed her to be proud of me.