Lessons In Butterflies ｡ ｡ ｡ (StudentxTeacher Romance)

Chapter 45: Don't look Away.

Mr Caldwell's POV:

The car ride was tense, to say the least. Shella sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. She hadn't said a word since we left her friends behind, but I could feel her frustration radiating off her like heat.

Good. She deserved to stew in it for a bit.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles whitening as I tried to focus on the road and not on the way she was biting her lip. That damned lip.

"You're mad," she finally said, breaking the silence.

I glanced at her briefly. "What gave it away?"

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the window. "You're being dramatic."

"Dramatic?" I repeated, my voice dripping with incredulity. "You've been ignoring me all day, Shella. After what happened yesterday, you thought you could just... what? Pretend nothing's wrong?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she shifted uncomfortably. "I wasn't ignoring you. I was busy."

"Busy," I echoed flatly. "Too busy to answer a single text?"

She didn't respond, and I could feel my patience wearing thin.

By the time we pulled into the empty school parking lot, the tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. I killed the engine and turned to face her.

"Get out," I said.

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"We're talking. Inside."

She hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to argue, but eventually, she sighed and opened the door.

__

Once we were in my office, I closed the door behind us, leaning against it as she perched awkwardly on the edge of one of the chairs.

"Alright," I said, crossing my arms. "Talk."

She frowned, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"How about why you've been acting like yesterday didn't happen?"

She looked up at me then, her eyes wide and vulnerable. "Because I don't know how to feel about it, okay? I feel guilty for teasing you, and I feel stupid for walking away like that. I just... I don't know what to do."

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. Her honesty was disarming, as always.

"You think I don't feel the same?" I said, stepping closer. "You think I don't replay every second of it in my head, wondering what the hell I'm doing?"

Her gaze dropped to her lap, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the air conditioning.

"Shella," I said softly, crouching down so I was at eye level with her. "This isn't easy for me either."

She looked up, her eyes searching mine. "Then why do you keep pulling me into this?"

"Because I can't stop," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "I've tried, Shella. Believe me, I've tried. But you—" I stopped, shaking my head. "You make it impossible."

She blinked, her breath hitching slightly.

"And as much as I hate myself for it," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper, "I don't want to stop."

Her lips parted, but whatever she was about to say was cut off by the sound of my phone buzzing on the desk.

I stood up abruptly, breaking the spell. "I need to take this," I muttered, walking over to grab the phone.