Whilst the Skeelz Academy was the most famous education establishment in Clint City, it was far from being the only one; many younger, more 'ordinary' students attending the rather mundanely named 'Clint City Elementary', it seemed that the evening was playing host to a similarly mundane event- Parents Evening. Though when it came to the children of the clans, the event of their genuine parents coming for a discussion was actually rather rare.
In the fourth grade classroom, Mrs Lewinsky was awaiting the next parent but in all honesty she didn't know who to expect; 'Gatuchica' being a child of the Huracan, she simply hoped and prayed that she'd manage to get to the end of the talk without being pinned to the classroom's fading carpet. However, it made her glad that she wasn't teaching 3rd grade like Mr Albany and had to deal with Orlok's father, Estalt. It made her wonder just why such a demonic minor as Orlok would be in a public school but Estalt's trust in the mortal teaching system had to be a good thing.
Glancing up from the pile of papers on her desk, she was slightly taken aback when she noticed a familiar yet unexpected male figure poking his head around the open door.
"Is this the fourth grade classroom?" He asked, quizzical glares turning to smiles upon the female's responsive nod. "Oh, bueno. I thought I'd gotten lost for a minute there, surprisingly easy to lose your bearings here."
As the male sat on the vacant chair facing her from the other side of the desk, Mrs Lewinsky was answering question after question in her own head: what on earth was El Divino of all people doing here? Had he lost a coin toss to end up doing the conference run? Or was she to consider his showing up an honour?
As he sat down, she found herself unable to speak for a split second, as if something was lodged in her throat; had the angels' wings been malting then she could have blamed a feather, but it soon didn't matter as she took a quick sip from the glass of water she had placed on the desk. And it seemed that as soon as the glass was put to rest, so were her complications.
"Mr Divino," Mrs Lewinsky began, staring the angel down from behind her glasses with a rather unimpressed look. "Would it...would it hurt you to at least consider putting a shirt on?"
"I don't tell you how to be the teacher," he began, eyebrow raised as if he couldn't believe the nerve behind her blushing. "So don't tell me how to be the angel."
"I guess you have a point," she replied, straightening the pile of papers in her hand. "But this isn't about you or me. This is about Carlissa."
"Gatuchica," Divino gently corrected, but it was all in vain as the female began to write the name 'Carlissa Garcia' on the first piece of paper. He noticed the same name printed on a nearby folder, brimful of paper and such that it looked like it was about to explode in a furry of work; curious, he gently grabbed it from Mrs Lewinsky's side and began to flip through the scribbled and colourful pages, recognising half a dozen of the sheets from when Gatuchica has asked him to help her with her homework.
"Carlissa's a lovely girl," Mrs Lewinsky began, smiling. "Bright, witty, vigilant. So enthusiastic. But this enthusiasm can be a problem, especially in Gym...she insists on trying to wrestle with the other children, no matter what the sport is. She even sent a boy to the hospital after she flying pressed him to get the ball in basketball."
"Don't tell me," Divino retorted, his tone a mixture of insult and embarrassment. "You're going to blame us for being an influence. We've told her again and again that those moves stay in the ring."
"No one's blaming you," the female responded, sounding rather apologetic as her cheeks blushed a slight scarlet. "I'm just asking that you remind her that the moves she's emulating are to stay in the wrestling ring. We don't teach wrestling until middle school anyway."
"You don't get decent opponents until middle school anyway," Divino commented, giving a chuckle as he just about managed to make eye contact with Mrs Lewinsky's annoyed stare. "Sorry about that. How's she doing with her written work?"
"She's doing as well as we're expecting her to," she replied, giving a content nod. "Especially with English not being her first language-"
"That's where you're wrong," the angel gently interrupted. "It's more her joint-first. English and Spanish are taught at the same time in Los Santos, well, after Noctezuma sorted everything out. Which is a lie, by the way, he didn't do it all by himself. But I digress. You were saying?"
"This is a report Carlissa wrote for Science," the teacher then said handing over a wad of paper filled with writing and examples. "Her wrestling obsession can really make her come into her own for things like this. I just had to award her an A+."
Staring at the diagrams, Divino couldn't help feeling proud at the firm grasp that Gatuchica had of forces, and he couldn't help chuckling a little at the various clan members that had been portrayed in said diagrams.
"There's me!" He chirped, chuckling once again as he pointed out the sketchy angel figure in the top-left diagram, though chuckles soon turned to stares when he realised that he'd been depicted as the losing party.
"Wait...against him of all people?! I'll be having words with her later."
"A little humility never hurt anyone, Mr Divino," Mrs Lewinsky said, gazing at the angel from behind her glasses.
"I'm not just anyone though," he replied, giving her a rather cocky glance. "I'm an angel, rather, I'm the angel."
"Of course you are," she agreed, but it was obvious that she was simply humouring him, much to the Huracan's chagrin. But as they'd stated before, it wasn't about him. It was about Gatuchica and it was clear that she was doing well enough as far as Mrs Lewinsky was concerned.
"There's no major cause for concern, other than the little wrestling matter," the teacher then began. "But other than that, that was all I needed to go through, unless you have any quick questions?"
"Would dinner would be out of the question?" Divino unexpectedly asked, flashing Mrs Lewinsky a rather inviting look.
"Mr Divino, I'm a married woman," she protested, sounding rather insulted that the angel would dare try anything. "Of course dinner's out of the question!"
"Oh well, can't blame the angel for trying," Divino then retorted, grinning rather laddishly as he leant back on the plastic chair; leaning too far as the chair suddenly gave way to the imbalance on it's hind legs, the angel couldn't help smirking in a cocky way as he gently floated in his sitting position.
"Now can your husband do that?"
"We're finished here, Mr Divino," Mrs Lewinsky said, giving a dismissing wave in the direction of the door as she kept her focus on the papers infront of her. But in all honesty the angel didn't care so much if she'd seen or not, as that had just been him being silly.
"Ok, ok, lo siento, I'm sorry," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic as he placed his feet back on the ground and stood up straight. "I'm just glad Gatuchica's doing well, that's all...and I get most giddy when I hear good news."
Staring up from her work, the female had a faint smile on her face, making it clear that she shared the same sentiment about the young girl; even giving a little chuckle upon hearing Divino's predicament of his giddiness, she shook her head in a humoured way as she watched the angel take his leave from the classroom.
"Oh, Mr Divino?" Mrs Lewinsky then suddenly asked, as if she'd just remembered something important and causing the angel to stop in his tracks. "Could you tell the next parent to come on in, please?"
Answered with a wink and a nod, she gave a sigh of relief as if convinced that the madness was over. But as she turned her attention to the list of names regarding the evening, she felt her mouth slowly gape open in disbelief when she noticed the name under Carlissa Garcia.
Shaun Pryce
Two clan children in a row was bad enough. But having to deal with discussing the many issues surrounding Shaun was just asking a little too much. However, it had to be done.
….now just how was the best way to deal with a stoned man like Dave?
