Ticci Toby Age Novels & Stories

He whined but didn’t otherwise protest, and once she let go of his collar, he hopped down from the car seat to the ground, shaking his golden coat out and stretching his legs. “Let’s go potty,” she told him, walking over to a patch of grass next to the rock driveway. Toby came along with her and headed for one of the small shrubs growing there. He had an affinity for helping to water the plants. Toby was four years old. She’d gotten him when she was thirteen, right after her grandfather had passed away. Her dad had thought a new companion might help ease some of the sting, but it hadn’t. Grandpa Horace had been so special to Everly. She still missed him. Toby quickly became her constant comp

“Why does your child talk like a divorced therapist?” “Because he spends too much time around annoying adults,” I reply. “That sounds personal.” Toby yawns loudly before climbing off the chair and immediately walking toward me. The second he reaches the couch, he climbs directly into my lap like he’s done it a thousand times before. Maybe he has. “You feel better?” he asks quietly. I brush his hair back gently. “A little.” “That’s good because crying was stressing me out.” A laugh slips out before I can stop it and Toby grins proudly like he accomplished something. Lilith finally groans awake from the other couch.

"Oh? It's interesting. Already, I didn't like his tone. "Don't begin," Darian cautioned. Innocently, Toby raised his hands. "I'm not going to start anything." then turned back to face me right away. "You really came from Taryn Reed, then?" I tensed up a little. "Yes." He gave a low whistle. "That man is a complete mess." I blinked. "Yes." Toby nodded as if we were in agreement about the weather. "I hope you get over that." I frowned. "Healing?" Darian looked at him.

And Olivia is right on time, “Tobias. What happened to you?” She rushes in like a wind and so does Theo and asks, “What happened?” “Toby is… he is…” I say but stop and start sobbing. Olivia comes towards me and shakes my shoulder and asks, “Tell me. Why isn’t he speaking up? What happened? Why is he so gloomy? What is wrong with him?” “Toby has a tumor in his brain.” I sob that out. “What?” Theo asks while Toby tries to maintain his shock of my words too.

I was 23 and Toby was 24 in this story. I’d arrived at the summer camp in Canada with excitement in my veins. Ditching my shit job for a summer of fun is just what I needed. I was going to be a camp counsellor along with a load of other young people. One guy, Toby, kinda stood out, he was from Michigan, and he’d played lacrosse in high school. He was handsome in a slightly goofy way. He has bushy brown hair and he was tall, athletic.

"You're very pretty to look at. I'm not even going to try to lie and say otherwise." His lips curl higher. "Even though I'm older than you?" "Are you that much older, though?" I don't see any wrinkles on his face, and Tobias doesn't look much older. "I'm sure you know I'm eighteen already. You read my files." "I did," he picks up a bottle and fills it with something. It's not alcohol. It looks like sparkling water. "And I'm thirty-one," his eyes briefly meet mine, gauging my reaction. When I make no face of surprise, he continues talking. "Does my age bother you?"

“Any special plans for Friday?” “Friday?” I blinked. “As in this Friday?” He nodded. “Oscar told me it’s Tobi’s twentieth birthday. I figured you’d be planning something?” My stomach dropped. How had I not known? We’d spent more than a year together. Had we really never celebrated his birthday? I remembered my eighteenth how Tobi had insisted on taking my friends and me bowling, covering everything without blinking. Later that night, I’d found a tiny black box on my bed.

“That’s Tobey.” As if summoned by his own name, Tobey came running toward them, pushing a toy truck overflowing with grass, sand, leaves, and several unidentifiable treasures collected with great importance. The wheels refused to turn. He stopped in front of Alicia, brows knitted in deep confusion. “Mommy… It’s broken.” She crouched beside him. “Maybe it’s just tired.” Then she looked up. “Tobey, this is Teddy. An old friend of mine.”

That tense, capable body, lean with muscle and garlanded with a cascade of beautiful black and gray tattoos… A knock at my door: I jumped—I'd been miles away, skirting dangerous mental territory. "Coffee?" Toby stuck his head in the door, followed quickly by a steaming cup of coffee. "And maybe some fresh air? It's almost one in the afternoon and I don't think you've left this room." "Agh, you're a lifesaver," I sighed, reaching out with two eager hands for the mug. "I've been buried in prep." "Yeah, ah, about that. There's a bit of a new development. Nothing to panic about!" Toby raised his hands to forestall the look of outright panic on my face. "But, ah…Sy Dage just cancelled the rest of

“With what? Told you we will talk.” “Not that and don’t bullshit me bitch. What’s up with the guy at Trust?” “He is a guy I know from somewhere.” “Doesn’t feel like so. Have you two banged?” “Tomboy got smashed?” Tim grins propping his elbows on the counter. “Just shut up Tim. This is a girl’s talk.” “Frankie shouldn’t be counted as a girl. She is a tomboy. Where is your cap by the way? Must admit you look good this way. You have great hair.”