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Izzy narrowed her eyes and let out an annoyed sigh when Blake followed her. But at least she had gained his interest. She left the door open as she pulled her toothbrush from the holder on the sink.
“You’re awfully confident about your ‘success ratio’ for a twelve-year-old,” she said not unkindly as she looked at him sideways, and slathered toothpaste on the brush. She could not help but wish she had his level of self-assurance. She started brushing her teeth absently as Blake rattled off his assessment questions, trying to not nod, though the gentle pink on her cheeks gave away her answers.
She finished with her teeth, then spat out her mouth-full of foamy toothpaste. “Thanks, Love Doctor. I’ll spare your bacon for today as payment.” She picked up her hairbrush. “How about this one:” she glanced to Blake in the mirror, “how can a girl tell if he’s interested in her?”

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The corner of Izzy’s mouth puckered slightly at Blake’s response, then rolled her eyes with an exaggerated motion at his request for breakfast again.
“Okay, okay.” She put her hairbrush away, and placed a couple hair ties around her wrist, a habit that had formed within the last couple months.
She had just stepped out of the bathroom when Zach’s voice called up to them.
“In the fridge,” Izzy answered as she descended the stairs, still in her fuzzy pajamas. “Waiting to be...” Her sentence trailed off as she stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, taking in the Zach’s wetness as he drank directly from the faucet. “Is it raining,” she leaned backward to glance out a window, “or did you jump in a lake?”
Not quite feeling like cereal for breakfast--or trying to convince her brothers to have a bowl themselves--she stepped to the fridge and pulled out a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs, and deposited them on the counter.

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Izzy raised her eyebrows at Zach as he gulped down water, then added a tub of butter to her small pile. She retrieved a pan from one of the cabinets and placed it on the stove top, her face twisting in disgust as she watched Zach wring out his shirt.
“You can’t think of anywhere more sanitary to do that?” she asked, turning the burner on. “The bathroom, for instance?” She turned from him to collect a spatula, then went to return to the stove, but Zach was closing the distance between them.
Recognizing his mischievous expression, she pointed the end of the spatula threateningly at him and stepped away. “Don’t you even think about--!” Her protest ended in an appalled groan as he forced her into a damp, reeking hug.
“GET OFF ME!” she shouted, trying to wriggle from his grasp and push him away, her attempts aided by the handle of the spatula as she tried to jab it into his side to make him back off. “Unless you want to make your own breakfast!”

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A scowl still pulled at Izzy’s lips when Zach pulled away. She eyed him as she returned to the stove, brandishing the spatula between the two of them as if it would shield her from another sweaty hug.
She glanced to him as she turned the stove burner on, and sighed. She had already gotten the view of her situation from the younger of the two. There would be little harm in bringing it up with Zach.
“So,” she began slowly, flicking a spoonful of butter into the skillet. “I’ve already gotten the Love Doctor’s thoughts on this. Thought you might like to put your two cents in.” She paused, bracing herself for his answer and potentially a barrage of teasing. “How do you tell when you’re in love, or if the feeling’s mutual?”

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Izzy shifted her weight awkwardly as silence fell in the kitchen, only the sizzling of the butter melting filling the quiet. She opened the pack of bacon as Zach thought, and added a few slices to the pan, creating sizzling anew. When he finally gave his rather unexpected answer, she stared at him for a minute, until the smell of the bacon cooking reminded her to flip it.
“Well, that’s one to file away. Aren’t you a little young to be thinking like that already?” she asked, her brows raised.
After breakfast, she hurried back upstairs to change out of her pajamas, habitually adding a decorative camo-patterned scarf she had found shoved in the corner of her closet a few weeks back. With her usual jacket and its back-up out of commission, it killed two birds with one stone.
Not wanting to waste the mild weather, Izzy hurried from the house, her walking staff, as usual, in hand, and partially hoping her brothers would not burn down the house while she was gone. Izzy paid little attention to where she was going, letting her feet carry her wherever the streets may lead, confident that, no matter where she was in town, she would be capable of finding her way back home when she decided to return. She let her mind wander with her feet, her thoughts frequently falling to Trevor.
As if summoned by her thoughts, she glanced behind her, and caught sight of her only friend about a block away. Izzy turned and stopped, watching him and wondering where he was heading. She shook her head, deciding it might be a good idea to avoid him until she got herself sorted out, but he turned. She did a double take at the gauze on his cheek. But before she could dwell too long on it, he noticed her.
She returned his wave with her free hand, smiling warmly. She walked toward him to help close the distance. Her smile deepened at his greeting.
“Better than you, by the looks of it!” A mix of concern and curiosity replaced her smile, her gaze on the gauze. “What happened?”

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Izzy raised her chin slightly at Trevor’s reaction to her question, his hesitation to answer only wetting her concern. She eyed him for a moment at his request.
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure.”
She walked alongside him as they went. She cast him and his bandage frequent glances, but listened and offered conversation nonetheless, waiting impatiently for him to decide when he wanted to divulge the cause of what laid behind the gauze. She mentioned the events of her morning, leaving out the jumbled mess of feelings revolving around him.
She looked sideways at him at the tone in his voice when he asked about her brothers. “Two menaces, rather.” She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “But, yep. I, uh,” she rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand, “used them to explain the martial arts books. At the bookstore.” She cleared her throat. “Why do you ask?”

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Izzy looked at him oddly when he ignored her question.
“Yeah, I guess we do,” she answered when Trevor fell silent. “I want to strangle them sometimes, but I’d do almost anything for them, when everything’s said and done.”
She shook her head at Trevor’s question. “You haven’t. But you do give off that sort of vibe. So,” she looked to him, tired of waiting for him to answer the first inquiry she had given him that day. “What’s the story behind the new accessory? Or did you get bored and decide today was a good day to put some gauze on your face for the fun of it?” She gave him a playful smile, though concern shone through her eyes.

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Izzy raised her brows at Trevor’s response, trying to figure out how her having brothers was connected to him having a wound on his face. She cast him a look when he inhaled, walking just a step behind him, letting him lead the way on their walk through town.
She frowned slightly at his revelation about his distance with his few family members.
She nodded slowly. “Because someone’s family by blood, doesn’t mean they’re really family. There’s more to it than that.” She glanced between him and the sidewalk ahead of them frequently. “Trevor…” she paused and bit her lip lightly, debating on if she should pose the possible link between subjects. “Did one of your parents hurt you?” she finished slowly, the thought of anyone harming him making her stomach flip angrily.

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“Oh?” Izzy said as Trevor began, her eyebrows pulling downward in curiosity. “So, like, adoptive parents?” she offered, trying to help him, before he found his voice once more.
She nodded in encouragement of him telling his story. She did not break the short silence during his pause, the emotion that came from him at the revelation making Izzy glance again from the sidewalk to him.
When he spoke of his mother’s suicide, she gawked at him and how calmly he mentioned it.
She listened quietly as he continued. She gave him a small, uncertain smile at his quip about hiring a babysitter. When he finished, she could only stare at his almost carefree expression about the whole thing.
“Sounds like a soap opera gone wrong,” she said slowly, trying but failing at showing the same untroubled countenance. She looked back to the sidewalk as he continued with the present.
Izzy shook her head at his apology. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all that. Honestly, I’m glad you told me. It’s nice knowing more about you. And everyone needs to vent every once in a while.” She raised her chin slightly. “You know, if your so-called parents can’t see how absolutely wonderful you are, then they’re complete morons. They have no idea what they’re missing out on.” She smiled at him again, this time with sincerity.

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There it was, the smile Izzy so loved to see on him. Her heart fluttered every time one graced Trevor’s face. She felt her cheeks grow warm, and looked away, letting the lose part of her hair, which she again wore pulled up in its usual high half-ponytail, fall over her face.
“That’s what friends are for. Listening without feeling imposed upon, I mean.” She took a deep breath as, once again, her question about the gauze came to mind. “So,” she began, a dark tone to her voice at the thought of anyone harming him, let alone the people who were supposed to be his parents. Her grip on her walking staff tightened slightly. “Which one hurt you?”