Shella's POV:
- The Next Day -
The heat was unbearable, pressing down on us like a smothering blanket. The fans whirring in the corners of the classroom did nothing but push the stifling air around, and my shirt clung to my back in the most irritating way.
I tried to focus on Mr. Caldwell's voice as he rattled off something about The Circular Flow, but it wasn't exactly working. Economics wasn't my best subject, and today wasn't helping.
Dani was half-asleep beside me, her head propped up on her hand, while Carys, two rows ahead, was at it again. Her phone was tilted just enough for me to see the tiny flash of her camera app.
Snap.
I gritted my teeth. The heat was already testing my patience, and this was just making it worse.
Another click.
I was on the verge of getting up and taking her phone—or maybe snapping her neck—when Mr. Caldwell moved to the other side of the board.
He ran a hand through his hair as he walked, and I hated how distracting it was. The way the sunlight streaming through the windows caught the slight curl at the ends, the way a few strands fell back into his face.
His face.
It was ridiculous, really, how someone's bone structure could be so unfairly... perfect. Sharp jawline, slightly squared at the bottom, but not in a harsh way. His cheekbones were defined but not overly so, the kind of symmetry that felt almost sculpted. His lips—ugh, why was I even looking?—were full and soft-looking, with a natural curve that made it seem like he was smirking even when he wasn't.
I quickly dropped my gaze back to my notebook, gripping my pen tighter. My handwriting was getting messier by the second.
"Write this down," he said, his voice cutting through the heat-induced fog in my brain.
I tried. I really did. But every time I glanced up at the board, my eyes betrayed me, flitting back to him instead of the words I was supposed to be copying. He was wearing his usual shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the way he leaned slightly to write on the far side of the board wasn't helping my concentration.
Focus, Shella, I scolded myself.
But it was impossible. Between the heat, Carys' snapping, Dani's soft snores, and him—him—I was officially doomed.
"Shella," his voice called, sharp and direct.
I jumped, almost dropping my pen. My cheeks flamed as I realised he was looking right at me, one brow raised in question.
"Are you getting this?" he asked, gesturing to the board.
"Yes," I stammered, though my notebook said otherwise.
He gave me a look, half amused, half skeptical, before turning back to the board.
Carys snapped another picture.
And I was definitely going to lose it.
__________________________
- Later That Day -
The sun was still mercilessly high in the sky as I walked to pick up Theo and Leo. My brothers were already bouncing with energy when I got there, sweaty but unfazed by the heat.
"Shella!" Theo called out, running up to me with his little backpack barely hanging onto one shoulder.
"Hey, monsters," I said, ruffling his hair as Leo trailed behind, pouting.
YOU ARE READING
Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)
Romance___ "What? Oh, no. No, no, no. We are not playing family," I stammered, glancing quickly at Mr. Caldwell, who was staring wide-eyed at Theo and Leo. Leo, never one to miss an opportunity, immediately started bouncing. "Yeah! You can be our dad! And...
