Addicted - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter 6-Scarlett

I spend the rest of my afternoon in the dorm Pansy, recreating everything that happened today. By the time I'm finished, her mouth is open in shock, "I've been in this school with these boys for years, and they sure as fuck know how to hold a grudge. So you know, be careful girl."
I cringe inwardly. How bad do these boys have to be that multiple people have warned me about them?. I know they're deatheaters, but all I've seen are self-obsessed dickheads.

"Anyway, what's happening with you and Cedric?" She says wiggling her eyebrows comically. I laugh and shake my head, "Never in a million years, he's just a nice guy and I don't want to focus on boys right now, especially after I've basically agreed to war with one." I try laugh, but it comes out strained. Pansy looks at me concerned, "If this is really freaking you out, we can always go to Dumbledore you know?" I bite my lip, everyone knows it's better to deal with the slytherin boys then snitch and be targeted by them all for the rest of the year.
"Nah, I'll be fine. Mattheo just needs some serious humbling and if I have to be the one to do it then screw it." I say more confidently than I actually felt.
She shoots me one more look then gets up and stretches. "I'm gonna start to head to bed, I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a king day."
I rub my eyes and walk into the bathroom, calling over my shoulder. "Me too," with a sigh.

I spend the night in a restless sleep, tossing and turning in my tangled sheets. I wake up early and put a little more effort into my looks today because even if I don't feel confident, I might as well look it.
I curl my hair, do my makeup and roll up my skirt. I look over at Pansy, still asleep and glance at the time. She has a free period so I leave a note then head down for my first lesson. I stop in front of the door, nerves making me dizzy. I take a deep breath, fix my hair and walk in. I quickly scans over the class and don't see Mattheo anywhere. My stomach tightens with anxiety. For some reason it's worse that he's not here because at least when he's in class I know what he's doing. My shoes click across the stone floor when I suddenly stumble over someone's foot and tumble onto the hard floor, a scream trapped in my throat.

Well that's what would've happened if I didn't feel a pair of rough hands on my waist.