Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 34: Her Body Against Mine.

Shella's POV:

- The Next Day - 

I kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk as I trudged toward school, the rising sun barely painting the horizon. It was too early, even for me. But I couldn't sit at home any longer, not after that.

Stepmonster had made it very clear last night where I stood in her eyes. The way she fawned over Ezra, her syrupy voice practically dripping as she told him how charming and handsome he was—it was sickening.

And then, the pièce de résistance: her turning to me with that fake smile, like she was trying to be kind but just couldn't quite manage it. "You know, Shella," she had said, her tone saccharine, "boys like Ezra don't come around often. He's so polite. So good-looking. Maybe... don't get your hopes up too much, alright? He's just a bit out of your league, sweetheart."

Out of my league.

Because I'm fat.

She didn't say it outright, but she didn't have to. Her eyes had done all the talking.

The words echoed in my head, making my cheeks burn even now as I crossed the empty courtyard of the school. I tugged my blazer tighter around myself despite the growing warmth of the day, as if that could shield me from the world—or from my own thoughts.

I glanced at my watch. 6:45 a.m. Great. I was the only one here.

I made my way to the benches by the field, sitting down with my knees pulled up to my chest. The grass sparkled with morning dew, and for a moment, I tried to focus on the peacefulness of it all. 

But Stepmonster's voice crept back in.

"He's way too good for you."

I rubbed my arms, trying to banish the sting of her words. I knew I wasn't skinny. I wasn't some perfect, polished doll like the girls Ezra probably hung out with. But did that mean I didn't deserve kindness? Respect?

My stomach twisted. No matter how much I tried to shake it off, her words stuck to me like a second skin.

And now Ezra... He'd probably agree with her, wouldn't he? After all, he didn't exactly seem uncomfortable with her gushing over him.

Maybe It was a good thing she barged in, when he was about to-

I sighed, leaning my head back against the cold metal of the bench. It was going to be a long day.

____

I couldn't stay there. Not on the bench. The morning was too quiet, too heavy with thoughts I didn't want to think. So, I wandered. The campus was still, the halls empty, the echoes of my footsteps bouncing softly against the walls.

Somehow, my feet carried me toward his classroom. Mr. Caldwell's.

I paused just outside the door. What was I even doing? He probably wasn't even here yet. 

But then I glanced inside and saw him—his head buried in his folded arms on the desk, his chest rising and falling slowly. Asleep.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching him. 

The early sunlight filtered through the blinds, catching the strands of his dark hair. It looked softer somehow, tousled from sleep, and I felt a pang of something I couldn't quite name.

I hesitated. I should leave. But...

Something pulled me forward, like I was in a trance.

My bag slid off my shoulder and dropped to the floor with a dull thud, but I barely noticed. My feet moved on their own, carrying me into the room, closer to him.