A late arriving student

As you make your way back to your office to write the letter Diana requested, you are surprised to see an older and somewhat battered pickup truck pull into the parking lot. You can see a large metal toolbox in the bed of the truck, and some printing on the driver's door. After a moment a stocky man in work clothes gets out of the driver's door, while a slender black haired girl gets out the other side. They stand together, looking around the campus, their faces filled with wonder but clearly puzzled.

Spotting you the man approaches you with a slightly rolling gait, as though one leg is paining him. The girl trails behind him, looking warily at the other girls who chatter to each other and ignore her.

"Hola Senor," the man says. "I am hoping you can help us?"

"How can I help you, Sir."

"My name is Miguel Contreras. This is my daughter Alejandra. She won a scholarship to come here." He beams with paternal pride as he pulls his daughter forward.

"Kyle Hawkfeather. I'm the Dean of Students," you reply shaking his hand which feels as hard and rough as a piece of lumber. "Welcome to Pink Rose Academy Miss Contreras."

"Gracias Dean Hawkfeather," she answers with a hint of a curtsy, looking at you with dark intelligent eyes.

"Perhaps you can tell us where to go," Mr. Contreras says. "I have to work this morning, so we miss the check-in time." You can't help but think that these two were lucky to have avoided the chaos of the morning. "We have a letter," the man explains apologetically, producing a folded paper and opening it. "She is to stay in the Burnside building. Room 206. Where is that, Senor?"

You point to the building some distance past the Mellon building. "You can take the path around the Mellon building and it will get you there. Do you need help with the bags?"

He gives a short laugh, his white teeth flashing. "No Senor. I still have a few muscles left in this old body, and Alejandra, she's a strong girl just like her mother." If Alejandra objects to being compared to he mother she shows no sign of it. You cannot help but smile as you imagine the reaction of some of the other willowy beauties you saw disembark earlier today if they had been described as 'strong just like their mothers.' Neither Alejandra nor her father seem to notice your grin as they grab two battered suitcases from the back of the truck.

"Gracias Senor." Alejandra's pretty smile is impossible to resist and you watch the young lady and her father walk briskly up the trail you had pointed out wishing that the rest of the Pink Rose students were as self sufficient as that graceful young woman.