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I want something tangible to prove I’m not a completely aimless mess.

I just want to feel like enough, like my life isn’t too small to matter. Maybe it’s stupid to think I could get any of that from winning a highland dance scholarship, but I do.

Kenzie’s got her head tilted to the side, her eyes scanning my face as she sips on her tea.

“Thank you for that answer, Moira,” she says around the rim of her mug, and I almost crack up at the feigned formality.

Her eyes glimmer like she knows exactly how hilarious she’s being, and all the voices filling my head with self-doubt suddenly feel a little quieter, a little less cruel.

“For our next question, I’d love to know what you’d consider the most fun you’ve ever had doing a highland performance.”

I raise my eyebrows. That was one of the questions from my list, and I picked it specifically for the answer I already have in mind.

“Well, Kenzie, I don’t think it will be a surprise to anyone who’s been part of SDOO for a while to know my answer is, of course, the infamous Nickelback routine.”

She almost spits out her tea, her professional air slipping for a moment. “Oh my god, the Nickelback routine.”

I nod. “Yes, the Nickelback routine.”

She clears her throat and sets her mug down. “For our viewers who aren’t familiar with that incident, perhaps you’d like to provide some back story? Maybe a re-enactment?”

I pinch my nose and press my lips together to keep from snorting.

“Okay, so,” I say after taking a cleansing breath, “many years ago, I was part of a group performance at the SDOO Freeform Showcase, which, for those who don’t know, is an informal, local competition where dancers get to break out of the box a little and perform highland-inspired routines that incorporate other styles of dance and music.”

“Such as Nickelback,” Kenzie blurts.

“Yes, precisely. I was about eleven at the time, and my group was supposed to be dancing to a respectable Michael Bublé number, but when it came time for us to enter onto the stage, the sound guy put a Nickelback song on by mistake.”

“And which Nickelback song was it?” Kenzie asks, even though I’m sure anyone who was there remembers, including her.

“It was ‘Photograph,’ and after basically being raised in a dance studio, eleven-year-old Moira figured the show must go on at all costs, so she leapt out onto the stage and did an entirely improvised highland dance performance to Nickelback. I’m told it was very moving.”

“It was hilarious,” Kenzie corrects. “I think you should give our viewers a taste of what we’re talking about.”

I shake my head. “Oh, no way. It was a once in a lifetime experience.”

Kenzie is already busy searching for the song on her phone and doesn’t pay me any attention.

“Got it!” she crows after a few seconds. “Let me move the camera back.”

“Kenzie, I’m not actually doing the Nickelback dance.”

She just goes ahead with moving the tripod out into the hallway. “People loved the Nickelback dance. They still talk about it. You said yourself this interview needs to be unique and fun if we want to upstage the other applicants.”

“By fun, I did not mean me leaping around to Nickelback.”

She throws me a look over her shoulder. “Stop complaining and admit it’s a great idea.”

If I really think about it, it is a great idea, but I’m not about to tell her that.

“I’m not even warmed up,” I say instead.

“So get moving.”

I fight the urge to scream as I get up from my chair and start twisting my torso from side to side. I only do a few basic stretches, since I’m not exactly planning on giving the performance of my life here, and Kenzie keeps herself busy on her phone while I move.

I notice her glaring at the screen and shaking her head a little as she types something out, but I don’t ask what’s wrong. I’d probably only earn a glare for myself if I did.