[center][color=DodgerBlue][h2]Tobit Broflovski[/h2][/color][/center]


Toby hesitated at the signups for soccer tryouts. His brown eyes flitted over the paper, reading the names already written down on it. His hand reached out for the pencil, but then he drew it back sharply as if he'd been burned.

 He'd always loved playing soccer with his dad and the other poor kids back in Colorado. He was actually pretty good at it, at least when the other neighborhood kids were around his size. But those kids stopped talking to him as soon as they outgrew him, and he hadn't played properly with full teams and such for at least three years. He'd still occasionally kick the ball around with his dad, just for fun, but he never joined a proper team.

Besides, playing with a bunch of kids who were two feet taller than him and probably quite willing to pulverize him was... intimidating, to say the least. He bet anything they would have no interest in a tiny little kid with asthma and a propensity for failing miserably at everything joining their team. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to start getting bullied again. He was already the shortest kid, the poorest kid and probably the only Jewish kid. He didn't need to be the kid who made them lose every game. 

 He watched two nearly identical brothers walk up, one of them signing up for tryouts, the other trailing off to go elsewhere. Toby briefly looked up at the one who stayed to sign up. He had to stand on his toes a little to see the guys face properly. Even for a 'normal kid', this guy and his brother towered over Toby like giants. But of course, it was just Toby who was unusually small. 

Toby lingered a while longer, anxiously biting his knuckles. A couple more kids stared at him as they walked past, muttering to themselves as soon as they thought he was out of earshot. 

[i]"Whose little brother is that?"[/i]

[i]"Christ, how many grades did that kid skip? And look at his shoes! Is that fucking duct tape?"[/i]

[i]"Was that a real live midget back there?"[/i]

Toby bit hard into the knuckles on his left hand, causing them to start to bleed a little. He didn't know whether or not he planned to sign up for soccer, but he didn't want to stick around much longer. If he hung around these kids too long he'd be in a sour mood for the rest of the day, and his day already didn't start off so good what with waking up late and having to deal with his aunt's early morning antics. Usually he tried to wake up before his aunt, for obvious reasons. But last night had been rough and he missed his 5:30 alarm. 

Toby let out a heavy sigh and started to slowly walk away. He knew that whoever the soccer coach was would probably just laugh in his face if he dared to try out for the team.