Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 36: Good Girl.

Shella's POV: 

I could still feel the heat of his gaze on my back as we walked down the hall. It was like his presence clung to me, refusing to let go, no matter how much space I tried to put between us.

Dani and Juliet were up ahead with Mrs. Thompson, chattering away about something I wasn't paying attention to. My mind was too loud, replaying everything that had just happened.

The way he had looked at me. The teasing in his voice. The closeness.

What did it mean? Did it mean anything?

"Shella! Are you coming or what?" Juliet's voice jolted me out of my thoughts.

"Y-Yeah!" I called back, quickening my pace to catch up.

The art room was warm, sunlight spilling through the large windows and casting everything in a golden glow. Mrs. Thompson was bustling around, pulling out paint supplies and banners.

"Alright, everyone," she said, clapping her hands together. "We've got a lot to do, so grab a brush or some scissors and get started!"

Juliet and Dani immediately dove into the supplies, chatting about colour schemes and designs. I stayed back for a moment, unsure where to begin.

And then he walked in.

Mr. Caldwell.

Of course, he had to show up now.

I pretended to focus on the pile of supplies in front of me, picking up a paintbrush like my life depended on it. My heart raced as he walked past, his scent—a mix of cologne and something warm, like cedar—making my head spin.

"Shella."

His voice was right behind me, low and smooth.

I turned, gripping the paintbrush tighter than necessary. "Yes?"

His eyes flicked to the brush in my hand, then back to my face. "You okay there? You look like you're about to snap that thing in half."

I immediately loosened my grip, heat rising to my cheeks. "I'm fine," I said quickly, placing the brush down before I could embarrass myself further.

He smirked, and I hated how much I noticed the way it softened his features, made him look less intimidating and more... approachable.

"Good," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Because we've got a lot of work to do."

He reached past me, his arm brushing mine, and I froze.

"Relax," he said softly, barely above a whisper.

I didn't move, didn't breathe, until he had straightened up and walked away, joining Mr McAlsiter on the other side of the room.

Juliet sidled up to me, nudging my arm. "You okay? You're acting... weird."

"I'm fine," I said, probably too quickly.

She raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Instead, she leaned closer, whispering, "You know, he's looking over here."

"What? No, he's not," I said, refusing to glance in his direction.

"Oh, he absolutely is," she said, smirking. "And don't think I didn't notice the way he said your name. Shella."

"Juliet," I hissed, my face burning. "Please stop."

She just laughed, grabbing a pair of scissors and walking away.

I let out a breath, trying to steady myself. But when I finally dared to glance across the room, my heart sank.

He was looking at me.