Genevieve sighs and knocks on her own forehead with her right knuckles, closing her eyes as she tries to avoid eye contact with the others. Even Hope was taking to calling her a nervous kid, when she was likely at least a dozen years her senior. But that's just the way things were going to be it seemed. However young she may be, Hope WAS conducting herself with more grace than she was, so the bottom of the pecking order seemed to be her lot in this group. Opening her eyes slightly, she looks over at the others and continues listening quietly, wondering just what mischief she might be getting herself into with this group.
