Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
The day was over, classes were done, and everything was winding down. Eppie let out a sigh that she had been holding in for longer than she knew, and she could feel the old tension ease from the small of her back. Rolling her shoulders back, she let the tension and stress of the day fade just a little bit. It was a Friday, which meant most of the kids had bolted out the door right at the last bell, not to be seen again until Monday morning. The weekends were full of their lives, and she was happy to be left behind in the shuffle. There was so much she had to do, anyways.
Still, at the end of the day, she often kept her classroom door open, a constant presence were she ever needed. Occasionally, she was. But more often than not, she sat in there that hour and graded papers or developed lessons for the next day. She sunk back into her desk chair and opened her calendar once more. The next week was pretty clear, but there was practice tests coming up. She tapped her pen gently against her lips as she tried to think of something to help prepare them all. Testing season was never fun, and she needed ideas to make it not so unbearable. Her mind drifted into the possibilities. There had to be places they could go, things they could talk about, to let off the steam. All she kept circling back to was the idea of a nice, long, hot bath and a bad reality TV show to carry her off to sleep.
A knock at the door shook her from her reverie, and embarrassed, she tried to cover dropping her pen with a warm smile, half-rising out her chair. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” she apologized to the young woman that stood in the doorway. She pushed back her chair and waved her the rest of way into the room. “What’s on your mind?”
Post by Cora Elaine Marshall on Nov 23, 2018 4:10:05 GMT
The fact that Cora was heading to a teacher’s classroom after classes and practice sessions had both ended for the day was not really a surprise for anybody who knew her. Particularly if they knew that she was headed towards the English classroom. Over the years, her affinity for both reading and writing had become well-known throughout the group home, and it was something that other people had come to expect of her more than anything. There had even been a few times when someone was looking for her, and the first place that they went after checking her room was to this very classroom. Whether or not that became any kind of a nuisance for Ms. M, well, she hadn’t really asked. Still, Ms. M never really asked her about it either, so she had a feeling that her favorite teacher didn’t really mind all that much. After all, she was a teacher, which meant… she had to like some kids, right? Maybe?
Cora made her way to the familiar door, her arm wrapped around the book and notebook that she had tucked into the dip in her waist. Today, she had a few questions for Ms. Morgan about continuing her education, which weren’t really questions that she had been asking anybody before this. She knew that her mother would have some opinions, both about where to go and what to study, but she needed someone that didn’t offer up a biased opinion. She knew that if she asked her parents, that they would want her to go to one of their alma maters, to study business or law or some other soulless field that she just couldn’t see herself working in for the rest of her life. Not that she could tell her parents that, they were all determined that she would be the next CEO of Marshall Communications, they wanted her to be the one that would continue the family legacy. The fact that she had no desire to do that didn’t seem to matter, which was frustrating in itself. She knew that she wasn’t cut out to be a CEO, she didn’t have the same ruthless mindset as her parents did, and she was pretty sure that they saw it as one of her greatest character flaws. But in spite of that, her generally sunny disposition didn’t waver, and she remained just as cheerful and friendly as she had from day one.
Well, maybe not day one, but her outlook on life had remained pretty steadily optimistic for long enough that she was counting it as relatively linear. Regardless, she was hoping that Ms. M would be able to give her a little advice about the future, and an honest appraisal of her chances of cutting it out in the world beyond Phalanx Home. Taking a deep breath in, she knocked gently on the door, poking her head inside. “Hey Ms. M,” a warm smile tugged over her lips, moving forward as she was waved inside. Regardless of whether or not she was teaching her favorite subject, Ms. M was her favorite teacher. She was inviting, enthusiastic, and even Cora could tell that she genuinely cared about the students that she taught. It was because of those qualities that Cora had opted to seek her out, instead of another professor. “Well,” she started, shifting her hands in front of her body and crossing them as she rocked back slightly on her heels. “I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you about college options?” Reaching up, she tucked a blue curl behind her ear, tugging slightly on said strand. “I want to continue with my education I just… have no idea where to even start. I’m hoping maybe you could point me in the right direction.” Big, doe like eyes peeked up at the teacher before her, wordlessly conveying a plea for help, or any kind of guidance to speak of.
Eppie relaxed a little bit to see Cora, one of her quieter pupils. She always felt the girl was a model student. Smart, hard-working, a critical thinker. It made teaching her more than a joy, and though she was happy when any student sought her out, it was definitely nice to see Cora on her off-time. Considering they lived under the same roof, it was more often than not. She waved the younger girl into a seat as she came round her own desk. “My door is always open, Cora, especially for questions about higher education,” she said with a light smile. Due to Phalanx’s size, she and the other teachers took on more roles and were able to really get to their know students, through and through. It was a wonderful experience.
Like so many other kids her age, Cora said she was lost. Eppie nodded in agreement; she had been there once, floundering. Life after high school had seemed insurmountable, a giant thing she had to climb without knowing how. “Well, to start with, what are you interested in? You’re a gifted writer, intelligent, talented; there is a lot that you can do.”
Eppie did not needlessly “gas up” her students, to use their parlance; Cora was all of those things in spades. The possibilities for someone like her were truly limitless, and Eppie knew that it was her job to bolster and guide her on whatever path she chose. She had never been someone who could bark down edicts for others to follow, and she understood the importance of people finding their own ways in life. There were so many bad choices to make in the world; the only thing one can do is walk beside the one making them. She trusted Cora’s judgement and was interested to see what the girl wanted to do after high school. She leaned a hip against her desk with a smile.
Post by Cora Elaine Marshall on Nov 30, 2018 18:09:24 GMT
Cora knew that she had a reputation for being quiet, and truth be told, it was an earned reputation. When it came to being in classrooms, she had a tendency to be a bit more on the soft spoken side, usually waiting for someone else to try to attempt to answer a question before swooping in if nobody had raised their hand. It had also earned her the reputation of being a bit of a teacher’s pet in at least one class, but truth be told, she couldn’t say that she was ashamed about that. She valued the education that she had been receiving, particularly when it came to her English and writing classes. There was something about writing that fascinated her, it had from the moment that her mother had given her her first journal, and while she couldn’t put her finger on one definitive element that she loved of the practice, it was something that she wanted to continue. The idea of telling her mother about that, however, was something that terrified her, so she supposed that she should at least spend some time learning her options before she committed to anything. That was the responsible thing to do, right?
That was what had led her to Ms. M’s office that day. In a lot of ways, Ms. Morgan was her favorite teacher, and it wasn’t necessarily because of the class that she was teaching either. In her seventeen years of life, she had been in plenty of classes that had been about as exciting as the prospect of watching paint dry, but Ms. M’s class was not like that at all. It wasn’t boring, it was engaging and something that she looked forward to every day. If that made her a teacher’s pet, then fine, she would be happy to own that title.
As Ms. M waved her in, Cora smiled brightly and practically bounced into the room. If there was one teacher whose wisdom she trusted, it was probably the one whose classroom she was currently in; she seemed to genuinely care about the students that she interacted with, and if there was anybody who could appreciate that, it was her. “Great!” She moved up towards the general area that Ms. M had indicated, and took a seat, setting the few things that she still had with her from the day to the side so that she could talk without getting distracted by any of it. There was just so much information available to her, about schools and options and majors, that she honestly didn’t even know where to start, and she figured that instead of struggling, she could use one of the resources that she already had available to her. It helped that said teacher didn’t know her mother, and could provide her with a more unbiased opinion than anybody close to her family would be able to.
Ms. M started speaking, and Cora could feel her cheeks reddening slightly. She had heard the compliments before, she had even read them on most of her papers, but it was never something that she had gotten used to, and she was pretty sure that it was something she never would get used to. “Well, to be completely honest, writing.” She took in a breath, willing the blush to fade. “Or anything English related. I’m not sure how well that’ll fit into a job after graduation, but I love doing it.” Even as she spoke, she could feel her mother’s disapproval filtering over her, and she twisted her fingertips around, desperate to let her brain focus on something that wasn’t the disapproving stare her mother would undoubtedly give her if she came home and said she was going to college for an English degree. For a moment, however, her mind lingered there, and she bit down on the inside of her lip, before speaking again. She trusted Ms. M. “I’m… pretty sure my parents, my mom in particular, want me to go into business, but,” she paused, thinking about the ruthlessness she had seen both of her parents exhibit in order to further their careers. Cora was not at all a cutthroat kind of person, and she was fairly certain that she couldn’t handle that. “I… don’t really think that’s for me.”
Eppie found a lot of herself in Cora, a fact that may have scared her a little bit. She had gone through her own grade school days quiet as a church mouse in class, head down and always pointed in the direction of “out of Heather.” She didn’t make waves socially; in earlier grades, people often forget she attended school with them. She had her own little set of friends, but books were always her favorite refuge, which made her a prime English student and then an at-least-okay English teacher. Cora had the potential to be so much more, if she was willing to be a little risky. She tried to support her whenever she could, which probably did absolutely nothing to help the teacher’s pet reputation Cora had earned.
Cora’s blush did not catch Eppie off-guard; she had practically expected it from the quiet girl. She hoped Cora knew she meant every word; Eppie was never one to lie to students. She warmed to hear about Cora’s passion, but the wringing of Cora’s hands was not lost on her. Holding back a frown, the teacher pulled over a chair and sat in a desk across from Cora. College tended to bring up a lot of anxiety for completely ordinary teenagers, she knew, but those at Phalanx had so much more to contend with that worried even her. “Not to blow your mind or anything, but I have an English degree.” She added a little laugh, to try to ease the dark clouds that seemed to be forming over Cora. “There are a lot of things you can do with an English degree or places you can go with a writing career.”
The source of Cora’s anxiety was revealed, and Eppie could feel her heart squeeze for the young woman. She leaned forward slightly, her arms crossed on the desk. “Well, Cora, that’s kind of the amazing thing about college: you go, not your parents,” she informed her. She understood familial pressure, though, and it was harder than it seemed to shake. At some point, however, things just had to happen in their own way, though goodness knew she knew what happened when all that went sideways. Still, she was all the better for the journey she chose herself. “College is four years where you have to depend on yourself, no matter where you go. Don’t make it harder on yourself trying to do something you just don’t want to do.”
Post by Cora Elaine Marshall on Dec 11, 2018 3:14:02 GMT
Cora was definitely the type to keep her head down and focus on her studies, and not just because she had an oppressive force in the form of her parents pressing down on her on all sides to tell her that they expected her to succeed. Truth be told, if she had Miss Morgan as any kind of a business teacher? Or math or science? She was one hundred percent sure that she wouldn’t get the same kind of review of her skills. The fact of the matter was that while she did decent in those subjects, she was far from the shining star in those classrooms. She did as well as she did in Miss Morgan’s because it was a class that she was actually interested in… and also because Miss Morgan was a great teacher. And yeah, maybe she kinda had a bit of idolization going on, but in her mind she couldn’t have picked a better person.
“Wow, really? I had no idea.” Cora cocked her head to the side, perfectly faking shock before dissolving into a quiet giggle that she was pretty sure most of the people in her life would have called “adorable”. In fact, several had in the not too distant past, and honestly it was a label that Cora was just rolling with at this point. “Like what? I don’t want to sound pessimistic but I don’t think my family would be too thrilled with me being a teacher or… really even a journalist.” She knew they wouldn’t, they had a very specific list of goals that they wanted their daughter to achieve, which included going to their alma mater, graduating magna cum laude with a major in business, going to business school for her masters, and then taking the helm of the company that her mother had started with both of her parents by her side. English majors, writing careers, and even blue hair weren’t included in that list, and there was a very traitorous part of Cora that felt like she was betraying her family everytime she indulged in thinking about even one of those things. Not that it stopped her from coloring her hair or thinking about her other options, but it wasn’t without significant thought.
There was a part of Cora that definitely knew that what she majored in and where she went was her choice, and not her parents’, but the idea of calling them up and telling them that she wasn’t going to be a business major, that she didn’t want to take over the company via nepotism that her mother had built from the ground up, was enough to send her into a spiralling fit of anxiety that usually brought her undisciplined powers out to play in full force. “Yeah, but I’m still the one who has to explain it to them.” She let out a quiet sigh, slumping down in her chair. While she wasn’t the type of person to wallow in her anxiety and find the negative in every situation, when it came to dealing with her parents there were some pretty significant barriers to her doing whatever she wanted with her life. Still, she hoped that they would respect her choice, whatever that choice might be.
“I guess I just… am struggling with the idea of going against what my parents want. My mom wants me to go to business school and be this tycoon like her, and take over her company when I finish.” The words came out in a rush, as if it was a burden that she had been living with her entire life. Mostly because that’s exactly what it was, except she hadn’t realized that it was a burden until she figured out that she didn’t want that. “I’m not made for it. I can’t be a ruthless businesswoman, I don’t have the backbone for it.” She let out a sigh, straightening up in her chair. “Sorry, I know that’s depressing.” Shaking her head, she reached up and ran a hand through her hair, tugging lightly on the blue strands to remain grounded. “Regardless of what my parents say. I want to go for English. It’s what I’m good at, and it’s what I love doing. I just… don’t know where to start beyond that.”
Eppie raised her hands at Cora’s fake shock, palms out. “I know, I know, can you believe it?” She shook her head and clucked her tongue as the young girl fell into a rather cute giggle. If ever Eppie had a younger sister, she would have hoped she came out like Cora: good head on her shoulders, talented, and always with a sense of humor in unexpected places. “Not to get defensive, but you tell them there are worse things than teaching. I mean, I can’t think of them at right this moment, but I’m sure they exist.” When she had told her own parents that she wanted to teach, they were surprised. She knew the pay was rather dismal and that it was a thankless job, but it felt more right than sitting in an office all day, every day for the rest of her life. “There are plenty of things an English degree could do; they may not be lucrative but they exist.” But that wasn’t Cora’s problem, it seemed. Family, that strange and treacherous beast, sat heavy upon her chest. Everyone at Phalanx seemed to bear a family burden of some sort, from Eppie’s findings. More than powers connected the residents.
Her expression grew understanding, the humor buried beneath usual concerned and compassionate veneer. It was a big task: to so wholly defy one’s parents. Even she wasn’t taking her own advice. Her parents had no idea why she was really in New Orleans (not that she herself had the clearest idea of it anymore either). She was, basically, implying to a seventeen-year-old child that she should be braver than a twenty-eight-year-old woman. Her jaw flexed as the thought settled in. “I know, Cora, and that’s a lot to ask you to do.” She offered a small smile to the student, watching her all but melt into the chair. She wished she had an easy fix, a band aid that made it all better.
Cora’s words were a rush, more a waterfall than a trickle, and Eppie thanked her lucky stars that she had plenty of experience with fast-talking teenagers. Else how, she would have been completely lost. Mother. Tycoon. Take over. Those were the finer points, she gathered. She couldn’t see Cora as a businesswoman, all shoulder pads and pantsuits. No, Cora had a much gentler soul than that, a much better soul than the one who could give edicts from atop an ivory tower. “It seems to me like you’ve got your mind made up, and that’s a good thing.” Cora had come under the guise of college help, but Eppie felt she needed more of a grounded ear than a career counselor. “You’re stronger than you think you are. You know what you want, which is more than most your age can say.”
She folded her arms on the desk in front of her, lengthening her spine as she leaned forward. “If you had a more defined and exact plan, would you feel better about possibly, maybe, one day presenting it to your mother?” she inquired. Perhaps a tangible, real plan would be more of a help for Cora than a bunch of platitudes and “buck up!” speeches.
Post by Cora Elaine Marshall on Jan 3, 2019 0:48:53 GMT
There were a number of adjectives that Cora had heard used to describe her before. Many of them were in the same general vein: sweet, kind, perpetual ray of sunshine. One thing that everybody seemed to agree about was that she had a good head on her shoulders, but Cora, for her part, couldn’t really see it. Sure, she had ideas and a potential trajectory, but there were some issues with executing it… and with letting down her mother. As much as she couldn’t see herself becoming any kind of a ruthless businesswoman, she would do it if it meant making her family happy. Even if she wouldn’t be happy in the meantime. Of course, this wasn’t a discussion that she’d had with her mother yet, but there was always that understanding that when the time came, and when Cora graduated college—with a degree in business—that she would be the one taking over the company. Her family had no idea that she had no desire to take over that company, and honestly, she had no intention of telling them. As much as she didn’t want to study business in college, she knew that she would probably end up going unless there was someone in her life who encouraged her to do what she wanted.
Maybe that was the real reason that she had searched out Ms. Morgan. She needed someone to give her permission to not fall in line with what her parents wanted, because she was too self-sacrificing to let herself do it otherwise.
“There’s definitely nothing wrong with teaching, and you would think that if anybody would understand that, it would be the parents of a high school aged child.” She chuckled, shaking her head. Her parents wouldn’t understand if she told them that she wanted to teach, not that she was even sure if she did at this point. It had its merits, but despite being a perpetual ray of sunshine, she wasn’t sure that she could handle kids. She wasn’t sure she should be around them, if she couldn’t get her own ability under control. “Honestly Ms. Morgan… I don’t care about the money. I don’t want to make millions or be able to afford a mansion or a small country,” in fact, her face contorted in horror at the thought. Nobody needed that amount of wealth. “I want to do some good in the world and actually enjoy my life.” It was a broad desire for her future, but the one that she possessed, and she had a feeling that if there was anybody in the entire world that would understand that sentiment… well, it would be any teacher in this building, Mr. Perona included.
Before she could stop herself, Cora spilled her entire sad situation and every single worry that she had onto the shoulders of the teacher standing before her. Or at least, most of the worries she had. The part of not being able to control her own ability was something that she kept firmly bottled up, preferring to not relay that information to someone who would, and probably would, tell the people in charge of making sure she could control herself.
“I feel like I only have my mind made up about what I don’t want to do. Everything else is vague at best.” Cora reached up, rubbing her fingertips against her forehead, already feeling the stress headache beginning to settle just behind her eyes. “That conversation is never going to be easy.” She dropped her hands down onto the top of the desk. “I could get into the world’s most prestigious English program and she still wouldn’t be happy, but,” She tried to square her shoulders and look determined, even if she had a feeling that was a total failure on her end. “I know it’s a conversation I’m going to have to have, and having an actual plan I feel good about might help… prevent me getting swayed to fall in line.” The last part came out in a bit of a rush. She didn’t want Ms. Morgan to think that her mother would manipulate her into the career path that she wanted her daughter to follow into, but the truth of the matter was that she didn’t know. Setting her jaw and pushing the small smile back onto her lips, she looked up at Ms. Morgan again. “How did you decide that you wanted to be a teacher, anyways? Did you always know that was what you wanted to do?”
EEppie laughed and shrugged good-naturedly. “You would think, huh?” she questioned. She smiled warmly at Cora’s statement about wanting to do good in the world. That was one of the many reasons she enjoyed the girl as a student but more importantly a person. For all that Cora carried with her, the girl wanted to do something good for the world. “That’s a good attitude to have. You can make a living doing what you love, and that’s all you need.” Goodness knew she wouldn’t be teaching for the paycheck. She loved it, though; she thoroughly enjoyed being the soundboard, the shoulder to cry on, the smiling face that someone inevitably needed.
The rest of Cora’s story came out like a faucet on full blast, and Eppie didn’t dare interrupt her until she was done. When looking for a solution, the best place to start was with word vomit sometimes, and Eppie was never one to try to stem the tide when students wanted to let it all out. When Cora stopped to breathe, she gathered her own thoughts. “That’s at least a start, Cora; it narrows it down,” she reminded her with an easy smile. It had been over a decade since she had been Cora’s age, but she could at least vaguely remember all that fear and anxiety when it came to college. She, at least, had made it easier by choosing that it would be an in-state college before she knew what she wanted to do exactly. It was a big choice and set the tone for everything else in a life.
Her smile only grew warmer when she watched the young woman square her shoulders. Cora was serious about this; that much was clear. Her stalwartness, shaky as it was, drew Eppie into her cause like a moth to a lamp. “We can sit down and hash out whatever you need, hun. That’s what I’m here for,” she reminded her.
At Cora’s question, Eppie had to have a little laugh, shaking her head. “Not at all. My senior year of high school, I changed my mind nearly every month about what I wanted to major in. Thankfully, I had a more defined direction when I went into college; I knew that I wanted to do something with books and literature but that was about it.” Mostly, she had just known that she wanted to go South and get away from her small town, but that hadn’t been what Cora asked. “I thought about a ton of different things in college: law school, journalism, freelancing. But I had the opportunity to go help tutor high schoolers, though, and I found I really liked it. After that, I was sold on the idea of teaching.”
It had taken others a bit more to get used to the idea of her being a teacher; she had been so quiet and so smart. Her own mother - well, grandmother - had questioned her relentlessly when she had called her with the news of her career choice. “I took a few freelance writing gigs during my first few years out of college, but I could never imagine myself working in an office or other type of setting,” she answered her truthfully.
“Getting your foot in the door somewhere, where you can just try it out for a little bit, is the easiest way of deciding what you want to do, I think.” She idly fiddled with her pen cap as the wheels turned in her head. Eventually, something seemed to catch in her head. “If you could preview what life would be like for a writer in New Orleans, would that be something you’d be interested in?” She wasn’t about to make promises, but she had an inkling of an idea. If it worked, it would give Cora information at least about what she wanted to do in life.
Post by Cora Elaine Marshall on Feb 7, 2019 3:10:16 GMT
Cora was definitely one of the do-gooder types. From the time that she was young, she knew that she wanted to make a difference in the world, and honestly? She credited the fact that she grew up in San Francisco for that. Sure, she had grown up in one of the more wealthy areas, but she had lived in one of the more expensive cities in the United States, which meant that for all the wealth that she had seen, she had also seen excessive poverty. And, judging by the amount of times that she had slipped her mother’s money to the poor souls sitting against a building, depending on the kindness of others to ensure that they would survive for another day, it had made more than a slight impact on her. It was the reason that she had felt compelled to volunteer with what free time she did have, because she wanted to make the world a better place when she eventually left it. In her mind, that was a goal that every person should have, but she knew all too well that there were people who were more concerned with the wealth that they could accrue for themselves than what they could do for the rest of the world.
In her mind, there was nothing worse than personal greed, and she would rather be poor and struggling financially than refuse to help someone who needed her.
There was something about Miss Morgan that made Cora feel warm and safe, something that made her feel like she could tell her anything, that she could confide in the woman before her. Honestly, that was something that she needed in her life; as much as she treasured her best friend Astrid Isobel Perona, there was something about having someone who could help steer her in a direction that benefitted her future that was important to her. Certainly she couldn’t entrust that to her own mother, who had a future in mind for her that she didn’t even want, and there was a certain amount of relief that Cora felt that she now had someone who could fill that role for her. Even if she knew that her mother would be devastated to find out that she didn’t necessarily fill that role.
Hearing Miss Morgan’s story did make her feel a little better. She, like most people her age, figured that the people who had it together, who knew what they were doing with their lives, had just sprouted out of high school with a perfect idea and an exact plan for what they were going to do. Knowing that wasn’t the case definitely made her feel less pressure to figure absolutely everything out immediately. “That’s about where I am, honestly. I wouldn’t mind doing a minor in something like business, something basic so that I can figure out what a good business model looks like or have at least a grasp of the business world, but… I enjoy working on most of the assignments in your class.” For probably the first time since she had come to Phalanx, she didn’t feel embarrassed admitting that she liked doing work for one class or another. And yeah, sometimes even Miss Morgan’s assignments were about as easy as pulling out her own tooth, but for the most part she did enjoy them.
“It still blows my mind that you willingly teach high schoolers though. I mean a lot of us are kind of terrible.” Was she speaking about the kids at Phalanx House? Not necessarily. Her comment was more geared towards the entitled jerks who walked into Quarter Cafe, pockets stuffed full of their parents’ money, who acted like everybody in the world owed them something just for existing. Maybe her opinion was colored by her ex, just a little bit.
Cora listened, intrigued at the idea that her favorite teacher might have some ideas for her. Already she could see the gears in her mind working, and she had a feeling that Miss Morgan was about to suggest something that she hadn’t even thought of. And, judging by the next words that she said, Cora had been right. “Without a doubt!” A smile broke across her face. She was trying, actively trying, to not get her hopes up, but getting some kind of job shadow into what her future could potentially be? That was like a dream come true for her, and she was willing to do just about anything to make sure that it worked. “That might help me figure out what I actually want to do so I could bring a more defined plan to the table when I’m talking to my mom about it.”
