He is able to get the stone back and undo Drake's own wishes

James’s heart hammered against his ribs so hard he was sure the whole classroom could hear it. Brenda Boyle—once Mr. Boyle—kept swelling at the front of the room, her bikini top creaking like overstressed canvas under breasts that grew larger by the second. Nicki clung to Drake like she’d never known anyone else, her lips brushing his ear while she whispered something filthy that made Drake laugh low and cruel. The stone sat loose in Drake’s hand, half-forgotten, his fingers lazily drumming the black surface while he soaked up the worship.

This is my only shot.

James didn’t think. He just moved.

He slipped between two desks, shoulders hunched, pretending to pick up a fallen pencil. Drake’s eyes were glued to the transforming teacher, his mouth half-open in smug delight. James took one ****, silent step and lunged, his fingers closing around the smooth black stone. For a terrifying half-second, Drake’s grip tightened, but James managed to rip it free.

Drake’s head snapped around. “What the—?!”

Before the word finished leaving his mouth, James clutched the stone tight against his chest and spoke fast, voice low but crystal clear.

“I wish Drake Walker is completely frozen in place, unable to move, speak, or even blink, right where he stands.”

The stone flared with warm black light that pulsed once against his palm like a heartbeat. Drake’s body locked solid mid-sneer, one arm still reaching for the empty air where the stone had been. His eyes stayed wide and furious, pupils tiny pinpricks of pure rage, but nothing else worked. A thin string of drool started to form at the corner of his mouth and just… hung there. He looked like a statue someone had dropped in the middle of the aisle.

James exhaled so hard his knees almost buckled. Relief crashed through him so violently he had to grab the edge of a desk to stay upright. The stone hummed warmly against his palm again, alive, obedient, his.

He didn’t waste the moment.

“Next,” he said, voice steadier now, “I wish every single change Drake made with the stone today is completely undone.”

The stone flared brighter.

Reality rippled outward like a stone dropped in still water. Brenda Boyle’s impossible curves began to collapse inward as if someone had let the air out of her. Her massive breasts shrank, her hips narrowed, the bikini melted away into normal slacks and a button-down shirt. Stubble reappeared on her softening jaw. In seconds she was Mr. Boyle again all lanky, awkward and adjusting his glasses as if he’d only just zoned out for a second. He blinked at the class, confused but already reaching for his whiteboard marker.

Nicki jerked back from the frozen Drake like she’d been burned. She shook her head hard, red hair swinging, and the glazed lust in her eyes cleared instantly. She looked around, startled, then spotted James and gave him the exact same “what the heck is going on?” look she’d been giving him since first grade. The heavy, suffocating dread that had been pressing on the room lifted like fog burning off.

James glanced down. The dark wet patch on his jeans vanished as if it had never existed.

He kept going before anyone could start asking questions.

“No one remembers any of the weird stuff that just happened except for me… and Drake.”

The last ripples faded. Students who had been staring at Brenda a moment ago were already turning back to their notebooks, chatting like nothing had happened. The air felt normal again in that loud, bored, ordinary high-school air way.

James’s hands were still shaking, but a fierce grin was starting to tug at the corner of his mouth. He had the stone. Drake was a statue. The nightmare was over.

One more wish.

He stepped closer to the frozen bully, close enough to see the tiny beads of sweat on Drake’s forehead and the vein pulsing in his temple.

“Final wish,” James whispered, voice low enough that only he and the stone could hear it. “I wish time rewinds to the exact moment today when Drake first shoved me into the locker and took the stone from me. Everything and everyone resets to that second… except Drake stays exactly like this frozen, right here, right now. No one else will notice anything strange or remember what happened after that point except me.”

The stone blazed so bright James had to squint and turn his face away. The classroom, the desks, the students, even the bell that had just rung all of it blurred and spun backward like film in reverse. Voices un-spoke. Lockers slammed open instead of shut. The hallway reformed around him in a dizzying whirl of colour and motion.

When the world snapped back into focus, James was standing exactly where the nightmare had started: right in front of his open locker, backpack half-on his shoulder. The shove from behind hadn’t landed yet… because the moment had been rewound to *just before* it did.

Except Drake was already there now frozen solid a few feet away, one arm outstretched exactly as it had been in the classroom, mouth still open in that same furious sneer. Students streamed past the living statue without a second glance, stepping around him like he was a misplaced trash can.

James stared at Drake for a long moment, chest heaving. The stone rested safely in his pocket again, cool and heavy and *his*.

He stepped closer until he was nose-to-nose with the motionless bully.

“You had your fun,” James whispered, voice low and steady. “Now it’s my turn.”

The hallway bell rang again, normal and ordinary. James smiled for the first time all day.

“What now, Drake?”