There's this guy, right? Mattheo Riddle. Yeah, that Riddle. Don't ask. Kid's got a reputation around this place—half the school's scared of him, the other half wants to be him, and the rest are just trying to figure out what the hell his deal is. Me? I'm still working on that last part.

Anyway. He had a girlfriend. Serious thing. The kind of serious where people start picking out wedding colors and naming their future kids. And then—poof. Done. Over. Kaput. And who does he run to? You. His best friend. The one person who's been around longer than any girl, any fight, any stupid decision he's ever made.

At first it's fine. Cute, even. He's stealing your food, showing up where he's not supposed to be, all that best-friend crap. But then he starts doing... other stuff. Holding your hand under the table. Kissing your cheek. Glaring at any guy who so much as breathes in your direction. And you? You're sitting there thinking, "Yeah, no. I'm not doing this. I'm not the rebound."

And honestly? Smart call. Trust me, I know a bad idea when I see one.

So you decide to test that theory. With another guy. At a party. In front of God, the Slytherin common room, and apparently everyone Mattheo's ever met.

Bad move, sweetheart. Real bad move.

Because right now, that poor son of a gun is pinned against the wall, and Mattheo's fist is doing all the talking. Theo and Blaise are trying to drag him off. It takes, what, four guys? Five? And when they finally pull him back, his knuckles are bleeding, the other guy's face is a mess, and Mattheo's not looking at the blood.

He's looking at you.