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*jackson matthews is a thief*

“C ONGRATULATIONS, Senator Matthews.” Mr. Shields smiled at Jackson from his desk as Dumb Hat came through the classroom door. I clenched my teeth as I watched him enter the room. I was the only person in our grade who was supposed to have the title of senator.

Not Jackson.

He looked weird as he muttered thanks and headed for our table, like he was embarrassed, and I felt my entire body growl at the sight of him. If I were the senator, I would respond to the congratulations with poise and grace.

Jackson looked like he had no idea what to say.

“Did you study for the quiz?” he asked me as he sat down and unzipped his backpack.

“Yes,” I replied shortly.

“I didn’t, and I’m toast.” He slammed down his textbook, then his notebook. “I didn’t even read the assignment.”

“Stinks being you,” I said, refusing to look up from my notebook.

“That’s ‘Stinks being you, Senator Matthews ,’” he corrected, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Didn’t you hear that I’m basically your king now?”

I snorted. “I heard, and I can’t quite believe it.”

“Me either. I don’t even know how I got picked.”

“What?” That made me look up. “What do you mean? You applied and had an interview, Einstein. That is how you got picked.”

“No, I didn’t,” he said, his freaky blue eyes narrowed on me like he was confused. “I don’t even know what a middle school senate is .”

The bell rang and I clenched my fists, because they wanted to punch something out of frustration. Jackson’s casual oh-this-is-wild attitude was too much. “There was, like, a ton of work you had to do to even be considered. Don’t be all cool and pretend you didn’t try for this.”

“I swear on my life, Emma,” he said quietly, his voice very serious, “that I did not try for this. I don’t even know what a senator does in a middle school; seems really stupid to me.”

“It is not stupid—”

“Put your books and notebooks away,” Mr. Shields said, coming around his desk with a stack of papers in his hand. “And no talking. The quiz will take most of the class period to complete, and when you’re finished, please read quietly at your desk until the bell rings.”

I tightened my jaw and forced myself to ignore everything but the quiz. I’d studied, and I was the first one in the class to finish.

Which was bad, because then all I did was sit there and inwardly rage over the ridiculous hatted person to my right. Of course he’d tried for the senatorial appointment—that was the only way you could even be considered. It wasn’t something where someone could write in a name at random; the faculty elected the representatives, after careful consideration.

Unless.

The niggling little voice in my head, the one I’d been telling to shut up since that day at the portal, was now screaming.

Jackson Matthews grew. I didn’t.

Jackson Matthews got the appointment. I didn’t.

Jackson Matthews had curves. I didn’t.

Those thoughts circled around in my brain like a chant, over and over again, and my head nearly exploded.

He was getting my wishes.

Jackson Matthews, the boy who’d been there at the portal when I’d made them, was somehow getting my wishes.

“Oh. My. God!”

“Miss Rockford!” Mr. Shields looked at me like I’d just murdered someone in the middle of the classroom. “Would you like detention?”

“N-no,” I stammered, my heart racing as the certainty bounced around inside of me. I hadn’t meant to yell in the middle of the quiz, but my epiphany was too big. I gave him my most sincere “I’m so sorry.”

He went back to quietly watching the class, and I went back to freaking out.

Because I knew what had happened to my wishes.

I closed my eyes and pictured Jackson’s rock knocking my wish packet out of the hole.

Jackson Matthews had stolen my wishes.