Exhilaration | Shawn Hunter [Boy Meets World]

Pop Quiz

At school, the boys and I were playing football in the hall. I was defense and Shawn was offense.

"Steve Young takes the snap. Jerry Rice goes long. He throws a perfect 60-yard pass and hits-" Cory ranted, as Shawn ran in front of the bathroom, but as Cory threw the ball, it had hit Frankie. "A blue 1995 Buick Regal."

"Run!" Shawn yelled, pulling me by the hand and running around a hall with Cory.

Soon, Cory noticed they weren't following and looked around the corner at Frankie and Joey, still not moving from their places.

"They're not moving," I say.

"Maybe they lapped us," Shawn said.

Cory approached them. "Uh, Frankie, Joey, I realize it's none of my business why you're not beating us up, but why aren't you beating us up?"

They didn't answer, just stared down at a piece of paper.

"Maybe they don't understand," Shawn suggested.

"I'll translate," I tell then before changing my voice to a New York accent. "Why ain't you pounding my boys to a pulp?"

Nothing from them.

"Here here, let me try," Shawn said, taking Frankie's arm. "Hey! Why no this..." Shawn imitated being punched.

"Sorry, the thrill is gone," Frankie replied.

"Too bad. What you got there?" Shawn asked.

"It's a letter from Harley Keiner," Joey answered sadly.

"It's okay, Joey," Frankie tried.

"How's Harley doing in his new reform school?" Shawn questioned.

"It's called juvenile boot camp," Frankie corrected. "He loves it, thank you very much."

Joey started getting choked up. "He never wants to come home. He doesn't say it here, but I think he's got a new gang."

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"You don't get it, Cooper. We're lackeys. We're hangers-on with nothing to hang on to," Joey answered.

"Come on, Joey, we might as well go to class," Frankie said, picking up and carrying Joey.

"It's come to this," Joey whimpered as they walked down the hall.

"Okay, we're back live," Cory said, backing up with the football causing me and Shawn too as well. My arms waving frantically in front of Shawn, trying to block him. "Second half. Steve Young back to pass."

"Jerry Rice is open," Shawn called, moving out of my reach.

"He throws!"

Mr. Feeny came around the corner as Cory threw the ball and the teacher and principal caught it. "Intercepted!" I exclaim.

"By Feeny," Shawn said.

"The wily veteran," Mr. Feeny added.

"I stink," Cory remarked.

"I agree," Mr. Feeny replied. "Have you seen your latest test score? If Mr.
Matthews stinks, you, Mr. Hunter, are as odoriferous as a dead man in July," he gave the boys their tests.

"A 12. How do you get a 12?" Shawn asked.

"I don't know. You ever open a book?"

"What?" Shawn asked, generally confused.

Mr. Feeny turned to him quickly. "A book! Do you ever open a book?"

"What?!" Shawn asked, looking at Cory.