Thaddeus Roach

Quick Facts

• Thaddeus Roach is an older teen in foster care who becomes a crucial friend to Tiger Tolliver.
• Adopted son of LaLa Briggs, he embodies the possibility of found family.
• Key relationships: Tiger; LaLa; his biological sister, Jax; younger foster kids Leonard and Sarah.
• First appears at LaLa’s home, where his wary humor and hard-won wisdom quickly set him apart.

Who They Are

Thaddeus is the book’s clearest portrait of a survivor who refuses to be defined by the worst things done to him. Tiger first sees a lanky boy with a “mess of long, thick hair,” wide brown eyes, an army jacket with a KISS patch, and pink-painted nails courtesy of his little sister. The slight tilt in his walk—leftover from a broken back at the hands of his stepfather—turns his body into a record of violence. Yet he moves through the world with a protective steadiness, channeling pain into purpose. As both a cautionary voice and a quiet comfort, he reframes the foster system not as destiny but as a place you navigate, endure, and outgrow.

Personality & Traits

Under the dry jokes and pot smoke is a boy with a moral core shaped by damage, loyalty, and a ferocious sense of responsibility. He names the system’s dangers without flinching and still chooses to care—especially for kids more vulnerable than he is. His presence brings together resilience and survival with empathy for others’ grief and loss.

• Wise, cynical, and practical: He’s been in fourteen foster homes and gives Tiger unvarnished advice about placements and how to protect herself.
• Protective to the point of self-sacrifice: His future plans revolve around safeguarding Jax and kids like Leonard, even if it means leaving a stable home.
• Traumatized yet functional: He struggles with touch and uses prescribed marijuana to manage chronic pain, but he builds structure around himself—work, plans, and guardianship goals.
• Quietly kind: He doesn’t try to fix Tiger’s sadness; he sits with it, validating her experience instead of offering hollow comfort.

Character Journey

Thaddeus’s arc moves from victim to protector, from drifting teen to intentional adult. Initially the mysterious older boy in LaLa’s backyard, he reveals the history etched into his body and the fears that keep him vigilant. Crucially, he decides to leave LaLa’s safe home and build a life in Phoenix, where he can legally and materially support Jax—and eventually Leonard. This choice reframes survival as action: he refuses to repeat the cycle of neglect and instead positions himself as the guardian he wished he’d had.

Key Relationships

• Tiger Tolliver: With Tiger, Thaddeus is both mentor and peer—a witness to her grief who offers honesty instead of platitudes. Their late-night talks create a space where survival doesn’t mean numbness, tying their bond to the novel’s exploration of friendship as real care, not rescue.
• LaLa Briggs: As LaLa’s adopted son, Thaddeus proves that stability within the system is possible. Their relationship—comfortable, respectful, and calm—contrasts sharply with his earlier placements, giving him a model of love that informs the kind of home he wants to create.
• Leonard and Sarah: Thaddeus instinctively steps into an older-brother role for the younger foster kids. He comforts Leonard during upheaval and later folds Leonard into his long-term plans, showing that his care extends beyond blood ties.
• Jax: Jax is his anchor and mission. His love for her overrides his fear of their stepfather and organizes his life around custody, safety, and a future she can trust.

Defining Moments

Thaddeus’s milestones are small acts of steadiness that add up to a new identity: not “kid in the system,” but builder of a family.

• Meeting Tiger in LaLa’s backyard: A late-night conversation about black holes and foster care forges their bond. Why it matters: It sets the tone for their relationship—shared isolation answered with unsentimental honesty.
• Revealing his broken back: He discloses the abuse that left him in chronic pain. Why it matters: The vulnerability invites trust and explains his guardedness around touch, turning a private wound into a point of connection.
• Taking Tiger to the horse ranch and visiting the group home: He offers her escape, a routine, and proof that she isn’t abandoned. Why it matters: Care becomes action, not just words; he shows up even when it’s inconvenient.
• Laying out the Phoenix plan: He details the job, apartment, classes, and paperwork needed to get custody of Jax and later Leonard. Why it matters: Ambition becomes blueprint; he transforms survival into long-term guardianship.

Essential Quotes

“My advice to you is to split. Run. Get the fuck out. You don’t know what’s out there, what kind of people they might place you with. LaLa’s great, but she’s rare.”

This is Thaddeus at his most pragmatic—and protective. He refuses to romanticize the system and insists Tiger prioritize her safety, revealing both his hard-earned knowledge and the fear that the next placement could be worse.

“I love my sister more than I’m afraid of him. Sometimes you’d do anything to protect your family. It’s just something you know, deep inside.”

Love overrides terror here, clarifying his motivation. The line reframes courage as devotion, not fearlessness, and explains why he keeps reorienting his life around Jax’s well-being.

“I’m gonna go up there and I’m gonna get custody of my sister. I have to have a steady job, a place to live, take parenting classes. And then I’m gonna file for custody. I’ll get it. My mom’ll give her up. She’s too far gone. I can tell you right now when I move there, she’ll start leaving Jax with me so she can go score and then…she just won’t come back one day.”

This is his mission statement: specific, procedural, and emotionally unsentimental. He anticipates obstacles without flinching and turns a bleak prediction about his mother into a plan to protect Jax.

“All superheroes were sad kids. The sadness made them strong and then they rose up and helped people.”

Thaddeus reframes trauma as a source of moral strength rather than a permanent wound. It’s not self-mythology; it’s a working philosophy that justifies his choice to turn pain into purpose—helping others so their endings look different from his beginnings.