Lessons In Butterflies

Chapter 11: Not Mine To Protect.

Mr. Caldwell's POV (1st Person):

The rain was tapping against the windshield as I drove home, my thoughts spinning in the same loops they had been all day. 

The city lights reflected in the wet streets, but I barely noticed them. The whole day had been routine—lectures, assignments, the usual classroom noise—but my mind kept drifting back to Shella. 

And now Ezra.

I didn't like how Trey talked about her, or any of the girls for that matter, as if they were trophies to be won. I know he didn't mean it like that, but it didn't feel right. 

But it wasn't just Trey's words that bothered me. It was the fact that I couldn't shake that feeling—that guilt from the other day.

Pulling into the driveway, I cut the engine and sat there for a moment, letting the steady sound of the rain drown out my thoughts.

 I shouldn't be thinking about Shella. There was nothing between us. Nothing inappropriate had happened. 

And yet, I felt like I had crossed some invisible line.

When I unlocked the front door, Ferdie greeted me instantly—his ridiculously fluffy fur standing out against the dark floor as he circled around my legs, meowing his usual dramatic welcome. 

"Hey, buddy," I muttered, kicking off my shoes and tossing my keys and coat onto the entryway table, which I completely missed.

Ferdie meowed, circling my feet impatiently, but I ignored him for a moment as I bent down to pick up the coat I had carelessly thrown.

The house was as it always was—neat, but not overly tidy. Warm wooden floors stretched through the open-plan living room, leading into the kitchen where the counter was cluttered with a few dishes I hadn't bothered to wash. 

The shelves were lined with books I barely had time to read anymore, and an old leather armchair sat by the window, facing the small yard outside. 

The place was quiet. Peaceful, even.

Ferdie padded ahead of me, settling onto the couch as I walked into the kitchen. He stretched out lazily, tail flicking as he watched me. I smirked, shaking my head at him. 

This cat was the only thing I could count on to keep me company these days.

After pouring myself a drink, I sat down at the kitchen table, staring out into the rain. The day had been like every other. The same annoying giggly girls swooning over the boys from the other school. The same mindless chatter. 

But beneath all of that, something had shifted.

I couldn't stop thinking about the way Shella had acted in class. 

Quiet, withdrawn, avoiding my gaze. 

Had I really been so rude? Maybe it was the way she looked at Ezra, or the fact that I'd been caught off guard when Trey brought her up, but I felt uneasy. And the more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got.

I downed the drink, letting out a long breath as I ran a hand through my hair.

Ferdie jumped up onto the table, his wide two different colour eyes; amber and vivid blue fixed on me as if he could sense my agitation. I scratched behind his ears absentmindedly.

"Ezra," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. What was he up to? And why did I care if Shella was involved or not?

 It wasn't like she was mine to protect.

But the more I tried to convince myself that it didn't matter, the harder it became to shake that feeling—like I had missed something important. Something I couldn't quite place.