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1992-1993 - Freshman Year
Mrs. Augusta Whitehall stormed into the office of her daughter’s high school and announced loudly, “I demand you assign my daughter a tutor. Failing! How dare you! She can’t possibly be failing. It’s obviously the teachers who are failing my child. I won’t allow it!”
She was a woman who gaudily flaunted outrageous wealth from head to toe. It attested to a person unaccustomed to money, who’d apparently fallen into it fairly recently, and wanted even strangers to recognize it. She’d created a caricature of herself that overwhelmed once lovely features.
The moment the overbearing woman entered the office, there was a collective sigh. It was not the first time she had caused such a scene. She had sent letters of complaint to the local school board about half of the administrative staff and several of the teachers at the junior high.
Now she was the high school’s problem. All of them wondered who would receive her fury this time.
Her daughter Amelia stood at her side. The girl was the complete opposite of her mother in every way. She was a favorite of her teachers, had a broad friend group, and had scores of admirers from every grade level.
An uncommon beauty, Amelia was soft spoken and gentle by nature. She was struggling in her freshman classes due to her mother’s penchant to enter her daughter in pageants and modeling contests all over the country - uncaring that school was in session.
It had been a problem since Amelia was in fifth grade.
She was an intelligent young woman who simply couldn’t keep up with her workload and be dragged from venue to venue for trophies and crowns.
It was an issue that had been addressed with Amelia’s parents on multiple occasions. Her browbeaten father always folded to the mother’s tirades during such conversations to the intense frustration of school staff.
The receptionist opened her mouth to ask a question when Mrs. Whitehall set eyes on a young man just entering from a side door. Part of the student office staff, Leo had been running errands for the principal.
Mrs. Whitehall’s attention immediately landed on him. Then she said far too loudly, “You there. Usually ethnic kids are pretty smart. Are you smart?”
Amelia moaned, turned beet red, and said through gritted teeth, “Mom, stop. Leo is the smartest kid in the entire county, probably the state. He works really hard so please don’t disrespect him or embarrass me.”
“Young man, I need a tutor for my daughter.”
The staff watched in morbid fascination as Leo straightened his gangly body to his full height and faced the woman proudly.
“My name is Leonardo Stefan De La Cruz.” He extended his hand and Mrs. Whitehall stared at it for a long moment before shaking it briefly.
She muttered, “You look like a Mexican Leonardo DiCaprio.”
“Oh, god. Mom…” The girl somehow managed to turn even redder in her humiliation.
“It’s a compliment, Amelia!” Turning back to Leo, she said abruptly, “My name is Mrs. Whitehall. I need a tutor.”
With a gentle voice, perfect inflection, and old school manners, Leo explained, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Whitehall. First, my family is from Spain and Scotland - not Mexico. Second, I was named for Leonardo Da Vinci - not DiCaprio.” He glanced at Amelia and everyone in the room could see the poor girl was dangerously close to tears. “How can I help, Amelia?”
She started to respond when her mother interrupted. “I got a letter. She’s supposedly failing!” She let her gaze move over the men and women behind the counter. “The level of incompetence at this school is staggering…”
“No, Mom. Please…”
“I need her grades up quickly. Her father had the nerve to suggest I stop taking her to pageants and auditions if there isn’t improvement. How fast can you work?”
Amelia had the tips of trembling fingers pressed to her temples.
One of the guidance counselors murmured, “This is getting out of hand. Someone needs to intervene for Amelia.”
Mrs. Whitehall slammed her hands on the counter. “I will have your job! Do you know how much money I give to the entire school district?”
“Mrs. Whitehall, if you need a tutor, then I need you to speak to me, not the office staff. I tutor. They do not.” Leo kept his voice steady, even. “They’re merely concerned for a student who is well-liked and obviously struggling.” Moving his gaze to Amelia, he gave her a smile. “Amelia, meet me in the library after lunch and we can put together a plan to get your grades back up.”
She looked up in surprise. Giving a small nod, she smiled. “Thank you, Leo.”
“Of course. Mrs. Whitehall, it was a...pleasure to meet you.”
He turned to walk to the principal’s office and the horrible woman called after him, “Young man, I’m happy to pay. I know you probably have a bunch of brothers and sisters at home. I’m sure your family could use the money.”
