“I know what you’re doing,” Connor says in a threatening tone.
Ignoring my anxiety over my plan going up in smokes, I manage to look surprised and innocent.
“What am I doing?” “Oh spare me the innocent act,” he calls my bluff.
“What were you even going to do with Andrea’s bra, anyway?” -Andrea!
That’s her name!-“Hang it on my doorknob so Mom and Dad would find it?
They pretty much know everything, you know, so they wouldn’t have cared.” Interesting, I muse.
So he didn’t put it together.
Well, he just made it easier for me to lie my way out of this.
“Actually, I was going to throw it on Nathan’s bed and make you think she cheated on you,” I easily say, sticking my chin up and crossing my arms defensively.
Clearly, he finds my supposed plan very unoriginal, and an epic failure, too.
“That’s it?” he asks.
“This is how you avenge your beloved Burns?
Wow, you’re losing your touch, Mickey.
That wouldn’t have worked because I wouldn’t have cared anyway; she and I aren’t exclusive.” This actually surprises me.
I may forget the girl’s name, but Connor’s always seemed to like her more than any of the others girls he’s been with that I know of.
The rest of us assumed she would be the one he eventually chose as a mate and told our secret to.
But so far he hasn’t done that, even though it’s been almost seven months.
That’s the longest he’s ever kept a girl around; the second longest was six weeks.
That should mean something.
“What, really?” I ask, momentarily distracted.
“But I thought you really like her.
I thought she was the one; we all did.” He shrugs and brushes my comment off.
“I like her, but I’ve still got time.
There are plenty of other women with potential as mates.” What he’s referring to is a basic unspoken law in our world.
Putting me aside, female werewolves do not exist, but we don’t have to let the entire race die.
It’s advisable that werewolves have children by the time they’re 30, which means they should be in a serious relationship a few years before that; werewolves have enough respect for humans to be intolerant of fathers abandoning their werewolf sons with human mothers, especially when said mothers don’t know about the existence of werewolves.
For that reason, 25 is considered the average age at which a werewolf must have chosen a mate, and Connor is 24.
It’s not really a law, as in someone checks every year on all werewolves of the world to see if they’re on track, and if not forces them to do it.
Some werewolves never have children, live happy lives with several women and aren’t looked down on for it.
However, the bigger packs tend to be strict about this rule for their alphas, which is what the big leaders are called, and betas, or the seconds in command; arranged marriages with human girls who are somehow connected to werewolves and already know of their existence are very common.
As for my family, we may be a small pack, but my dad likes to keep this tradition as well, being originally from a big pack before he and my family left when Mom was pregnant with me and Danny.
He added to it his own rule, though; the first one of my brothers who chooses a mate, marries her and has a son will be the alpha after him.
So far, Mason’s the only one with a declared mate, but I thought for sure Connor would catch up to him when his relationship with Andrea lasted more than a two month.
I have nothing to say and remain silent, which gives Connor the opportunity to tackle me to the ground.
“Don’t ever go into my stuff again,” he grunts as we start to wrestle.
Like all my brothers, he’s much bigger than me, which usually gives him the advantage under different circumstances.
But when wrestling against only one of them, my size is actually my strong point because I can easily get out of his grip no matter how strong he is.
Plus, I’m not that weak, either, and I am perfectly capable of taking one of them on.
I’m almost on the edge of gaining the upper hand and getting Connor off of me when we hear a voice at the door.
“Ahem.” Connor and I freeze and look up at the same time.
And there stand the rest of my siblings.
Mason and Nathan are exact replicas of each other except that Nathan’s blond hair is a bit curlier; his blue eyes more expanded when he smiles and his face slightly thinner.
As for Danny, we might be twins, but being fraternal means we don’t have any features in common, except for our brown hair color.
He has the same blue eyes the rest of my siblings do, while mine are hazel.
My face is also rounder while his is sharp and defined, despite being only 17.
And let’s not forget he has the same tall and muscled build up as the rest of them, while I am slightly on the shorter side.
Their sizes are almost intimidating, if not for the fact that this is routine for us and I know what to expect.
We are about to form teams.
Let me explain how this usually goes for us Connolly boys.
There are five of us, right?
Logically speaking, we can’t make up two teams and have a fair fight.
However, there’s me; I may be a boy everywhere I go, but in my house, there’s no forgetting I’m a girl.
As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not as strong as they are, even if I am stronger than normal girls and even normal guys.
But my brothers like to challenge themselves in everything they do.
Taking on two guys of equal strength and one girl who is stronger than the average female, with only one teammate to help them out; now that is a huge challenge for them.
So when two of us start a match, and it could be any two, the moment the others join, the ones already wrestling are the leaders and they fight over the other three for who gets to be on their team.
Sometimes, we mix it up and have a completely unfair fight of one on four, but those rarely happen, and they aren’t as serious as our routine thing because the group of four obviously always wins.
“Mase!” Connor immediately yells.
“Remember how Michael took a picture of you throwing up after last week’s party at Giselle’s, and posted it on the school website?” “Don’t listen to him, Mase, you know that was him and not me!” I retaliated.
That actually was me, but I managed to convince them all that it was Connor.
What can I say?
I’m a very convincing liar.
I have to be, to keep my secret.
“Nate, I know you and Mase are twins, but you have to be on my side,” Con went on.
“Oh please,” I scoffed.
“He loves me more than he loves you.” “No freaking way; you locked him in the girls’ bathroom for last month’s War Day,” he reminded me.
“Well if that’s how you want to do it, then Daniel is with me because you locked him in the girls’ bathroom once too,” I threw back.
After having made our arguments, we stare expectantly at them and wait.
The choice is ultimately theirs.
“I’m with my twin,” Danny says.
“Yeah!” I shout victoriously.
“Well, I’m with Connor,” Mason adds.
“I’m pretty sure that was you who posted the picture, Mickey.”