Everyone calls me "Bossy Beatrice." And I don't mind it too much. See, how many of them can say they've won four State Spelling Bees in a row, lead the Debate, Quizbowl, and Mathlete Teams to States four times, directed four dazzling musicals to newspaper fame, and kept a 4.0 GPA?

Spoiler alert: None.

In fact, I like the nickname so much that it's written across the back of my varsity jacket in gold glitter. Bossy Beatrice, going in for one last victory.

But, to be honest, I'm a little nervous.

I've dreamed of going to Harvard University since my parents sent me to their Gifted Summer Camp. Their Political Science program is first in the country and so many alumni are fighting for change in D.C. 

There are a million ideas in my head about fixing this world, but all of them will go to waste if I can't nail this interview. Everything I have achieved will be worth nothing.

The door creaks open. "Miss Putnam?"

"Yes?" I stand and straighten my skirt. Remember to smile.

Inside, the office is a cozy rectangle, just like what my future office will look like. Well, if it winds up being oval-shaped, I definitely would not complain. Dr. Jenna Abrams, the Dean of Admissions, takes a seat behind the carved wood desk and gestures for me to sit too.

My palms start to sweat.

"Miss Putnam, thank you for coming in. I only have a few questions about your application," she says, shuffling papers. "Can you explain why you wrote your personal essay about this nickname of yours?"

I nod, my heartbeat slowing.

"When did being bossy become a bad thing?" I look her in the eye. "People have called me that word since I was little. I even cried about it until I understood what it means to me."

She laces her fingers together. "What does it mean to you?"

"It means I am a fighter. I have dreams beyond high school, dreams I am fighting to reach." I drop my smile, determined now. "You had to fight to become a Dean, didn't you?"

"Yes." Dean Abrams nods, jotting something down. "So what are these dreams of yours?"

"I will make a change in this world. It's time to prove that having dreams and fighting for them is strong." I nod once and sit up straight, satisfied. "Even being here proves my point. Whatever happens, I am proud of my achievements."

"Well, we look forward to what you will achieve here at Harvard next fall," Dean Abrams says, standing. All at once, her words hit me.

Harvard. Next fall.

I jump up and shake her hand, a grin filling my face. "Thank you, this is such an honor."

"You deserve it," she says, smiling. "The world could use a few more 'bossy' people." I can hardly contain myself as she discusses my future.

Later, I leave with my heels echoing in the hall. Look out, Harvard, Bossy Beatrice is coming.