Kaitlin Green sat on a desk, surrounded by a semi-circle of grade 12 students who were also perched on top of desks. Her hair shone from the light coming in from the window. At this point in the interview, she was relaxed; her shoulders were slumped, her legs dangled from the desk. Her eyes were searching each face, waiting for the next question. There was an awkward silence.

            "What are qualities people point out about you?" I piped up. I thought back to the note my boss had written me before she moved out to Calgary, pointing out my optimistic mood and carefree ways. She told me to never lose that. I loved that letter. It reminded me of the person I want to be.

            "Anything. Something someone said to you once and you were like, Oh thanks!" We both laughed at my voice imitating "someone".

            "I've been told that I'm funny which is, nice, I guess," she laughed nervously. I could see her recalling the memory as she flicked her eyes up to the ceiling for only a moment. "It is nice," she said to herself, as if to confirm the idea. "Like, for a person who struggled with being shy."

            Her legs kicked gently under the desk, a habit she'd been portraying throughout the interview.

            "I've been complimented on my hair, even thought it's probably my least favorite thing about me." I thought of my own hair; thick, frizzy, and curly. Unless I could commit an hour to straightening the whole mess, it usually ended up in a messy ponytail, with bits sticking out here and there; curls that just refused to conform to any restraint. Ms. Greene's hair was beautiful. It was sleek and wound into perfect, uniform ringlets that looked as relaxed as she was. Her answer sparked another question.

            "What's your favorite thing about yourself?"

            She thought of something then bit it back.

            "Don't worry about sounding conceited," I added. The whole class laughed with us.

            "Umm," her concentration was deep. She was searching her soul in front of a class of strangers. I mentally gave her props for her bravery. "I have a lot of friends, and I'm good to them. I like how I treat others, get a long with others." She smiled a genuine smile, one that could warm up the cold classroom. I was liking this woman more and more.