The thing that defines me: I’m a brother.
A big brother.
And my siblings are my everything. My life. My purpose.
Everything that I do, I do for them.
For Stellan, Shepard, Ledger and Calliope.
Born three minutes apart, Stellan and Shepard are identical twins and are eight years younger than me. Then comes Ledger, who’s twelve years younger, followed by Calliope, or Callie as we call her, who was born when I was fourteen.
Even though I was a kid myself when they were all born, it somehow happened that the responsibility for them fell on me. I’m the one who looked out for them, took care of them. Who fed them on time, helped them with their tests and homework, took them to soccer practice and recitals. And when they grew up, I’m the one who put curfews in place, made sure their rooms were clean, their chores were done.
I’m the oldest Thorne. The head of the family. Their protector.
Especially for Callie, our baby sister.
I’ve raised her. Actually all of us brothers have raised her together. She’s never known any other authority or parent figure than us.
But when the time came, I failed her.
I couldn’t stop the chain of events that led her to St. Mary’s.
It’s my responsibility to make sure that no harm ever befalls them. It’s my job to sniff out potential danger and eliminate it before it can touch my family.
So of course when I heard about an opening at St. Mary’s, I quit my old job and took this one.
Even though this job is pretty much bullshit and can be done by anyone who knows what a soccer ball looks like. Someone like me — someone who has led his teams to state championships, who has trained players that have gone on to become pros and some of the best athletes in the country — is way overqualified for a job that’s more about team building than anything else.
But it doesn’t matter because I’m here for my sister.
Besides, it’s not as if I like coaching.
I’m good at it. I’m famous for it, even. In this state and many others. But no, it’s not something I like or something that I choose to do out of passion.
But that’s neither here nor there.
The point is that it’s just a job. So it doesn’t really matter to me if I’m doing it at my old school or here as long as I can take care of my sister.
Who right now is insisting that I go say hi or something to her friends.
“Come on, Con. It will only take two seconds,” she says, all excited and hopping on her feet as she looks at me with her big eyes like she used to do when she was little and wanted me to buy her ice cream before dinner or watch Disney movies with her.
I could never refuse her back then. None of my brothers could.
And it’s even harder to refuse her now because those big eyes of hers look tired this morning and my anger at failing her mounts.
This time though, it’s not only directed at me.
It’s also directed at that motherfucker because of whom I was forced to send my sister here.
Reed fucking Jackson.
The guy who broke her heart two years ago and almost ruined her life in the process.
“Should you be running around like this in your…” I search for a word. “Condition?”
She frowns. “I’m absolutely fine, Con.”
I study her tired face, her sunken eyes. “You don’t look fine.”
That makes her smile. “Con, I love you for worrying about me so much. But trust me, I’m fine. It’s just a little morning sickness. Now come on, I want you to meet one of my best friends. You haven’t met her yet.”
Morning sickness. Right.
Because my sister is pregnant.
Because that fucking motherfucker got my eighteen-year-old baby sister pregnant. Because apparently he’s still not done ruining her life.
I should’ve killed him two years ago. I should’ve ended him the moment he looked at my sister.
“Come on, Con. Let’s go,” she insists again.
Taking a deep breath, I rub the back of my neck, massaging the tired muscles even though it’s only morning of my second day at St. Mary’s, and school hasn’t even started yet. “Shouldn’t you be heading to class though?”
She rolls her eyes. “We still have like ten minutes before the first bell.” Grabbing my hand, she smiles sweetly up at me. “Please? You will love her.”
I’m in no mood to meet a teenage girl when I know I’m going to have to spend the next eight hours dealing with a school full of them. But the thought of refusing Callie anything is even worse so I give my neck a last squeeze and nod. “All right.”
Callie beams and her happiness takes away some of the pain throbbing in my neck and shoulders.