At Izzy's insistence at desiring to be a tree, Trevor merely tilted his head and smiled innocuously. "Suit yourself."  Her incredulity at his studying over the summer was met with a playful show of feigned arrogance. "Of course. I don't stay at the top of the class just for wearing glasses."

Finally, as Izzy handed over her phone, Trevor fussed with it for a moment, looking down at it quite intently. Izzy, leaning over to see what he was doing, was brushed off as Trevor turned aside to conceal his activities. "It really is a shame, y'know?" Finished with whatever he was doing, he handed Izzy back her phone. Checking to see what he had done, she soon found that he had programmed his number into her phone. "Seems like you made a friend, despite your best intentions. See ya around, Izzy." And with a wave, he departed down the road.

[center][u]Hours later...[/u][/center]

Night time at the Caldwell residence. A modest home, larger than most, but Izzy's parents made good money and they had three teenage children to house. Despite their home being on the bigger side, it was a difficult house to hide in. Mostly due to the rambunctiousness of the youngest two of the Caldwell siblings, Zach and Blake. Zach had been a firebrand since he could walk, bouncing around the house until their parents could put him in sports. From that point on, it was kickboxing, karate, and every sport that the local middle school allowed him to participate in. As with all of the siblings, he took on their mother's coloration, with a shag of chestnut hair that hung to his shoulders, and green eyes so bright they seemed to glow. Izzy sometimes called him her "colossal little brother," as he already stood two inches taller than her at age 13. Born with a fire in his belly, Zach was a whirlwind of emotion and energy; always jumping, running, yelling, crying, shouting, doing [i]something[/i].

Blake was different. Izzy would tease him when they were younger by calling him her little sister, rather than brother. He was much calmer than his brother, a bit shier, far more sensitive. He liked to dress nicely (nicer than the athletic sweats of his brother), and kept his hair neatly trimmed and carefully combed. This did not make him any less of a hellion. Just as he was more feminine in his temperament, his moods were also not unlike those of a girl around his age. Able to swing from calm, to sorrowful, to outraged and back, he was very unpredictable to gauge. And while he "only" took karate, whenever he got angry (which was [i]often[/i]), Blake was much more likely than Zach to become violent.

Naturally, they were both hellraisers at school, especially when together. There was a certain unflattering nickname used for the two of them (usually by the staff of the middle school), the "demon brothers." Luckily, the boys were both infatuated with such comic-book ideals as justice and heroism, likely thanks to their pair of police officer parents. They diverted most of their energy into tracking down bullies and similar small-time evildoers at their school, and beating the snot out of them. If their intentions were any less noble, or if their parents weren't pulling strings to keep them from being arrested, they likely would have been expelled about five times apiece by now.

Unfortunately for Izzy, the hero business was not as tiring for her brothers as she would have hoped, and they had plenty of time to piss off both her and each other while at home. A shouting match had managed to break out after they had eaten dinner, and their parents were working a late shift, thus leaving the boys to feud without interruptions. Izzy laid in her room with her pillow over her head, trying to drown out the noise.

"Blaaaake!" Zach called after his brother from across the house, "Did you use my cup at your karate lesson?"

"Yeah, I couldn't find mine," the younger brother called back, nonchalantly, "Sorry 'bout that. I washed it, though."

"Euurghh! C'mon, dude, you can't do stuff like this!"

"What's the big problem?" Blake was sounding agitated now. "I said I washed it, it shouldn't make a difference!"

"Yeah, but it's gonna bother me! I'm gonna be in a match, and think about it at the critical moment, and then -POW- I'm done for. Breaking my concentration man, not cool! You're gonna kill my MMA career before it even starts!"

"What MMA career?" From the sound of his voice, Blake was leaving whatever he was doing in the living room, and coming up the stairs to Zach's room. "You'll never have a career, you're too afraid of getting punched in the face!"

Zach's door opened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Like this!" The tell-tale sound of the two kicking the crap out of each other immediately followed; a sound Izzy was tiresomely familiar with.

She groaned, pulling the pillow closer over her own head. This house was a nightmare, she needed to get out to preserve her sanity.