Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 2: Alcohol-rubbing Ointment Footsteps

Shella's POV (1st Person):

We all trudged our way to the assembly hall, looking like the well-organized cult we are, with our hair tied up, our green, blue, and black tartan kilts swaying just below the knee, and matching tartan ties neatly fastened under the collars of our white shirts. 

Green blazers completed the look, though they felt more like a weighty reminder of conformity than anything else.

I readjusted my glasses as we filed into the hall, catching my reflection in the glass doors on the way in.

 I actually didn't mind wearing the uniform. 

It was kind of nice, in a way. While I wasn't exactly skinny, the uniform made me blend in with everyone else. 

No one could tell under all the layers of plaid that I wasn't stick-thin like some of the other girls. 

And no one cared. It was kind of like armour.

Still, as we took our seats, I mentally prepared myself for the boredom ahead. The annual welcome assembly was the kind of event that made time stand still. 

The hall was packed with students, even the little ones from the junior school, all wearing the same uniforms—except for the junior boys who wore pants, of course. 

They looked so adorable, sitting in straight rows with their feet barely touching the floor.

The principal stepped up to the podium, and within moments, her voice droned through the microphone, welcoming the new Year 7s to the school like clockwork. 

My eyes glazed over as she went on about tradition, excellence, and responsibility.

Bloody boring.

I glanced at Dani and Juliet sitting beside me. Dani looked like she was about to fall asleep, and Juliet was busy doodling on her hand. At least they knew how to survive these things with their sanity intact. I gave Dani a nudge, and she barely blinked in response.

I let my eyes flicker toward the stage where the teachers were seated.

 Most of them looked equally bored, except for a few of the younger ones who probably still had hope left in their souls.

And then there was Mr. Caldwell.

He sat near the edge of the stage, arms folded across his chest, his expression as dark and unreadable as ever. For some reason, I couldn't stop myself from staring. 

There was something about him that was... unnerving. 

Maybe it was the fact that every girl in school seemed to fall head over heels for his brooding, no-nonsense attitude. 

Or maybe it was just the way he carried himself, like nothing could ever rattle him. 

Not even us.

I felt a twinge of annoyance as I realized I was still staring. Ugh, get a grip, Shella.

But just as I was about to look away, his eyes met mine.

Crap.

I froze for a second, my brain scrambling for something to do. Should I pretend I wasn't staring? Smile? Act like I was deep in thought? 

Instead, I just awkwardly adjusted my glasses and looked down at my lap like I'd been caught doing something illegal.

Great.

The next few minutes crawled by, but the moment his gaze broke away, I let out a small sigh of relief. That was embarrassing.

When the principal finally wrapped up her speech, the hall erupted in polite applause. Dani leaned over, whispering, "I thought that was never going to end."