Steve came home after his 'lecture' in a grumpy mood. Figuring he would grab coke and just go sulk in his room, he was further upset to find no Coke; "Damnit!", he yelled, and took one of his mom's diet drinks. Yuck!
He turned around just in time to see his 11 year old brother, standing there in the doorway, drinking a Coke. Steve's eye's popped open and he started yelling at Shaun.
"You took the last one! You little shit!" Shaun may be a lot younger than Steve, but he knew damn well he could out-run his dweeb big brother any day of the week. Steve was made even angrier by the fact that Shawn was wearing his soccer uniform; he always teased him for looking like a miniature clown, in the over-sized electric-blue shorts, the shiny, sun-bright yellow jersey, and those crazy-long thick yellow socks.
The front door slammed in mid-rant, two of Shaun's team-mates walked in, moaning about how they were short a player for the game because their winger was sick and neither backup showed up, either.
Steve felt a twinge, and as the three younger boys took off to the basement to phone around for a player, he was just about to tell them they were short a player because soccer SUCKS, when he felt a total change of heart. Scratching his head, he thought about how it maybe wasn't fair that they couldn't have fun on the pitch this afternoon.
He didn't really notice himself shrinking; he didn't have to much, being a short-ish nerd already. However he wasn't lookin quite so nerdy anymore; the slightly greasy, unkempt hair on his head went from black to a sun-bleached brown, and he laughed at himself when he noticed the totally nerdy pants he was wearing. He pulled them off, standing in his boxers (which did seem to fit okay) and large t-shirt, and felt totally at ease; very strange for a guy who kept himself covered up with black clothes head to toe most days. The total loss of body hair went un-noticed, although he did know something seemed different.
He suddenly had a great idea and ran downstairs to see what his bro thought. Standing beside him, looking only slightly down at Shaun (which made him feel vaguely queasy but okay with it), he squeaked in a clean soprano, "Hey, Shaun, if you want, I can give it a shot and play. Most people think I'm 10, so maybe I can sneak on your team, just for today?"
Shaun furrowed his eyebrows, knowing this was totally weird and out of character, but he'd been warned about this sort of possibility by his parents, and his discomfort turned to a devilish attitude, mixed with gratitude that he'd get to play.
"Yeah, okay, Steve; run upstairs and get my spare soccer uniform and try it on, okay?"
Steve took off upstairs as Shaun explained what was happening to his friends. They all thought it was pretty cool and were glad they had a replacement player, if a little bit weird.
Steve found the uniform, and instead of the usual clown-costume comment, felt a real thrill at the idea of putting on his brothers cool uniform. He tugged the socks on, leaving one pulled up past his knee, and threw the rest of the kit on as fast as he could, barely pausing to admire himself in the mirror. He took off running downstairs.
Shaun and Daniel both held back a snort of laughter when they saw Shaun's uber-nerd big brother appear, glowing with excitement and looking every inch an 11 year old soccer-boy, standing in front of them with his right soccer-sock goofily pulled half-way up his thigh, the other half-way down his calf, and asking for a pair of cleats.
Shaun shook his head in amazement. He'd have to find a pair of shoes for him, but that shouldn't be too hard. Just then, he heard their mom come home.