𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ━ shawn hunter¹

14│I AM NOT A CROOK

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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴄʀᴏᴏᴋ ꒱


❝ I'M A STINKIN' BEAGLE ❞

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The school list for extracurriculars had been handed out earlier that day and Shawn and Juliet were reading items off of it to see what Cory was interested in.

"Football?" the redhead guessed.

"No, no. Pain. Cleats on face," he answered.

"Modern dance?" Shawn asked.

"No. Lotta girls. Tights. No."

"Drama club?"

"No. Lotta guys. Tights. No."

"That's the list, Cor," Shawn sighed.

"None of these are me. I mean here I am, going into my eighth year of public education and who am I, really?"

"You're you. You're Cory Matthews."

"Yeah, but there's no Cory Matthews club on here. There's no club for ordinary guys who don't know who they are and aren't great at anything," Cory said.

"So start one."

"Oh, I probably wouldn't get in."

Juliet groaned. "Stop being so dramatic, Cor. You don't have to have an extracurricular."

"Besides, you've got a lot of good qualities," Shawn pointed out.

"He's right," the redhead agreed. "You're honest, loyal and decent."

"And housebroken too. I'm a stinkin' Beagle," Cory moped as they entered the classroom.

"Alright, people. This is just off the wire," Mr. Turner announced as they sat down. "Elections for next year's eighth-grade class president will be held next week."

"Who cares?" Cory fake-sneezed.

"Detention!" Mr. Turner mimicked him.

"Sorry."

"Too many people whine and moan about the way things are run around here. Well, this is the chance to change things by getting involved. But remember, this is a student election—"

"Not a popularity contest," the class droned back.

"I think we've been spending a little too much time together," Mr. Turner joked. "The point is, your class president doesn't need to be a quarterback or a cheerleader. You'll be much better off with someone who's honest, loyal and decent."

Juliet straightened in her chair at the repeat of her words from earlier. "Cor, that's you!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

"You wanted to know who you were. You could be class president," Shawn agreed.

"Come on," he scoffed.

"Alright, let's have some nominations."

"I got somebody good. I nominate me," Meese spoke up.

"Your humility is impressive, Meese, but someone else has to nominate you."

"Topanga, Juliet, how about it?"

"No, go away and don't look at me," Topanga answered quickly while the redhead peered up at the ceiling with unnecessary interest.