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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴘᴏᴘ ǫᴜɪᴢ ꒱


❝ I'M SO PROUD OF YOU! ❞

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Juliet jogged backwards slightly as she cheered on Shawn and Cory in their mock-football game. The latter was doing a running commentary: "Steve Young takes the snap. Jerry Rice goes long. He throws a perfect sixty yard pass and hits—" He paused to throw the ball as Shawn ran in front of the bathroom but Cory missed. "A blue 1995 Buick Regal."

"Run!" Shawn exclaimed as he grabbed the redhead's hand and tugged her away from Frankie.

Glancing over her shoulder once they'd gotten far enough away, Juliet saw that they weren't being followed. "They're not moving!"

"Maybe they lapped us," the dark-haired boy offered.

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 and just stared down at a piece of paper.

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

"I'll translate," Juliet said before she put on a New York accent: "why ain't you poundin' us to a pulp?"

Still nothing. Shawn stepped forward. "Here, let me try," he took Frankie's arm and mimed punching. "Hey! Why no this. . ."

"Sorry, the thrill is gone," Frankie told them.

"Too bad. What have you got there?"

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

"Harley knows how to write a letter?" Juliet commented, genuinely surprised.

"It's okay, Joey," Frankie said to his friend.

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

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

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

Juliet rolled her eyes. "I'm sure no one can replace you two."

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

"Come on, Joey, we might as well go to class," Frankie said, and he picked up his smaller friend.

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

"Okay, we're back, live," Cory announced, resuming his commentator voice. "Second half. Steve Young back to pass."

"Jerry Rice is open!" Shawn called over Juliet's enthusiastic cheers. "He throws!"

"And it's intercepted!" Juliet finished as Mr. Feeny caught the ball.

"By Feeny," Shawn said.

"The wily veteran," their teacher added.

"I stink," Cory sighed.

"I agree. Have you seen your latest test score? If Mr. Matthews stinks, you, Mr. Hunter, are as odoriferous as a dead man in July."

Shawn glanced at the redhead as she hid a smile behind her hand. "A twelve," he read the score. "How do you get a twelve?"

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

"What?" the dark-haired boy asked, looking confused.

"A book!" Mr. Feeny repeated. "Do you ever open a book?"

"What?" Shawn questioned him again.

"Don't ask me," Cory said. "I got a sixteen."

"Gentlemen, do you ever go home and open a book?"

"What?"

Juliet sighed. "I got this, Mr. Feeny." She turned to the boy and placed a hand on his arm. His eyes followed where her hand rested but she caught his attention. "Shawnie?"

"Hmm?"

"You know what I like to do for fun, right?" she asked gently.

His expression brightened. "I know this one! Read!"

She gave him a pleased smile. "Exactly! Now, what do I read from?"

He frowned thoughtfully before he tentatively answered, "a. . . book?"

"Good job!" Juliet cheered. "Now, Shawnie, have you ever read a book?"

He made a face. "Ew, no."

Juliet turned to their teacher. "There you go, Mr. Feeny."

He gave her an incredulous look and scoffed slightly. "You can't do that every time, Miss Capelwood."

"George?" Mr. Turner asked as he approached them.

"What?" he demanded.

"Capelwood's on the right track. Watch this." He turned to Cory and Shawn. "Hi, boys. Nice boys. Good boys." They smiled and nodded as Mr. Turner asked, "fellas, did you hear anything Mr. Feeny just said?"

"No."

"He's real mad," Cory whispered.

"But you understood what Capelwood was saying?"

"Yeah," Shawn nodded. "She gets us. He just started yelling like a crazy man."

"Huh," Mr. Feeny said as he began to walk away. "You know, I'd give up on them but I don't think they'd notice."

"What?"

Once Mr. Feeny was gone, their teacher turned back to them. "Guys, I hate to add to your troubles but your book reports were due on my desk by the end of the class."

"Hey, he took our ball, man," Shawn complained.

Juliet snapped her fingers in front of the boy's face. "Focus, Shawnie."

He gave her a reasonably apologetic look. "Sorry, Julie."

"Hey, wait, I didn't hear anything about any book reports," Cory added.

"Yes, you did," the redhead reminded them.

"I only mentioned it everyday in class for the last two weeks."

"Look, Mr. Turner. Just give us 'till Wednesday. I swear we'll have them in. Tuesday?" Cory tried.

"I'm grading them Sunday."

"So, Tuesday?"

"Please Mr. Turner, help me bring up my grades," the curly-haired boy pleaded. "I just got a sixteen."

"And Shawnie got a twelve," Juliet added.

"Between us that makes twenty-four," Shawn finished.

"Twenty-eight," Mr. Turner corrected him.

"Thanks."

"Okay, I'll throw you one. Have your papers in my hand, at my place, Sunday. Five o'clock and not a minute later."

"Alright, Mr. Turner, I should tell you— my dog ate it."

"Oh, Shawn," Juliet sighed as Cory whispered, "not yet."

"I'll help them, Mr. Turner," she promised their teacher.

Her teacher studied her for a moment. "Actually Capelwood, could I have a word?"

"Uh, sure."

🌎🌎🌎

"You know what I can't figure out?" Cory asked later as Juliet and Shawn hung out in his room. "How do these other kids get their work in on time and get such good grades? Jules, you got anything?"

"Well, being from the group you just mentioned, I usually just do the assignment as soon as I get it so I don't loose track of it or run out of time," Juliet explained.

The two boys looked at each other. "What?"

"You're talkin' like Feeny, Julie," Shawn told her. "I've got a theory. See, it runs in the family. Our ancestors were all slackers and goof-offs and now we're paying the price."

The redhead sighed as she tried to do as Mr. Turner asked and not use her usual tactics to try and get them to work. Cory brightened. "That's a good theory."

"You guys should start working on your projects," she suggested mildly, promising herself that this was the only time she'd do this. She tossed one of the random balls that were strewn all over Cory's room from one hand to the other and missed it on the first catch as it dropped to the floor and rolled out of sight.

"Alright, if I make this one, we start," Cory agreed. He sat up and tossed his ball towards the hoop, but he missed and it went out the window.

"Open a book!" Mr. Feeny yelled.

"What?"

"I wish t here was some way to do a book report without reading the book," Cory said.

"They can put a man on the moon but you still gotta read."

"I got it!" the curly-haired boy exclaimed, "we rent the movie and copy the junk on the back of the box."

Juliet immediately slapped her hand against her face and slumped against Cory's pillows as Shawn cheered happily. "You're a genius!"

"What, you think that sixteen was just an accident?" the curly-haired boy asked.

🌎🌎🌎

Juliet was outside of her apartment bouncing a tennis ball against the wall as she listened to I Want it That Way on her Walkman. She jumped when she felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder and she whirled around, aiming her ball to throw it at whoever had touched her. Her arm dropped, though, when Shawn raised his own in a placating gesture. The redhead pulled the headphones off her ears. 

"Shawnie?" she asked as she studied him. "Why're you out of breath?"

"I need a favor, Julie," he said with an unusual note of enthusiasm in his voice.

"Sure, what's up?" she tried not to feel too pleased that he'd come to her to ask for it.

"Me and Cory were just at Mr. Turner's and we may or may not have found his lesson plan for Tuesday."

"Shawn!"

He didn't even look guilty. "I couldn't help myself. The lesson plan was just calling out to me. Chapters eight, ten to sixteen."

"And you want me to help you study," she finished, her hopes sinking.

"Yeah! Since you do so well on everything and I've never studied before in my life. . . I was, well, you've always said I could do better and now I actually want to. "Seeing her slightly disappointed expression, he picked up her hand and squeezed it gently while he gave her a pleading look. "Please, Julie?"

The redhead bit her lip uncertainly, and her hesitancy caused her to miss how Shawn's eyes flicked down as she did the action before she released it and sighed. "Fine."

🌎🌎🌎

"Okay, everybody, books under your desks. It's pop quiz day," Mr. Turner announced that Tuesday.

The class groaned except for Cory, who complained robotically: "that is so unfair, Mr. Turner, you caught us totally off guard."

"Totally," Shawn added.

"Gee, if you're not ready, we'll just postpone it 'till tomorrow."

"No, no. Those of us who haven't prepared will just have to pay the price," Cory said.

"So go ahead, pop us," Shawn agreed.

"Okay," Mr. Turner answered. The two boys pulled out stacks of pencils from their bags. 

"Number-two pencils anyone?" Shawn asked.

🌎🌎🌎

"A ninety-two!" Shawn exclaimed once they left the class. "I've gotten a nine, I've gotten a two, but never together!"

"Oh, Shawn," Juliet said, but it was different than her usual exasperated sigh. She beamed up happily at him. "I knew you could do it!"

The boy met her eyes and then ducked his head, uncharacteristically embarrassed. "You were right as usual."

The red-haired girl hesitated for a moment before she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'm so proud of you!"

Shawn froze as her arms wrapped around him but responded quickly and hugged her back, burying his face in her red hair. "Thanks, Julie. I only got it 'cause you helped."

Pulling away from the dark-haired boy, she continued to smile happily as her heart beat rapidly in her chest. In an effort to cool her warm face, she turned to Cory and changed the subject. "What'd you get, Cor?"

"A ninety-six," he answered dully.

"Well, jump up and down!" Shawn exclaimed as he did the action.

"I can't."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because we both know I studied for it."

"So did I," Shawn pointed out. "Julie helped me. That's why we didn't tell anyone."

"Yeah, but I still feel like a cheater. Shawn, I can't live like this. I should never have studied. Boy, what I wouldn't give for an F right now," Cory hunched over. "Oh, oh, my stomach."

Juliet rolled her eyes at his dramatics as Shawn said, "this is the way it is. We both studied and we got good grades. Now deal with it."

"Oh, oh, now my head hurts. We gotta tell Turner. It's the right thing to do."

"No, Cory, come on! I got a ninety-two. This one grade alone gives me a decent shot at a trade school." Shawn paused and glanced at the redhead before he leaned down to whisper in the boy's ear: "and Julie's proud of me, Cory."

It didn't seem to matter to the curly-haired boy as he continued to groan.

🌎🌎🌎

"Mr. Turner?" Cory called to their teacher as the three of them walked into the classroom.

"Capelwood, Matthews and Hunter— the A-team," Mr. Turner greeted them. "How does it feel being at the top of the curve?"

"Great! Glad we talked about it, bye," Shawn said, and tried to leave.

"No, my stomach," Cory complained again, stopping the boy in his tracks. "Mr. Turner, I gotta tell you. We knew about the quiz in advance."

"We, um, we kind of saw it at your house in your lesson plan," Shawn admitted.

"The one I left open on my desk?"

"Yeah."

"The one I could have easily covered but I didn't?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Shawn said. "Alright, what's going on here, Mr. Turner? If that's your real name?"

"I want you to get good grades," Mr. Turner told the boys. "And I know Capelwood does, too."

"By letting us cheat?" Cory asked.

"Guys, that assignment has been the homework for the last two weeks," the redhead told them.

"It has?"

"Wait, you mean you want us to know what to study?" Cory questioned him.

"Well, I'm lost," Shawn said.

"You remember the day when Mr. Feeny started yelling at you for no reason?" Juliet asked, and when the two boys nodded, she continued: "well, Mr. Turner asked me to help you guys get good grades but not in the usual way I try to do it."

"Wait, you knew?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah. Mr. Turner knows I value my schoolwork and he knew that once you found the lesson plan at least one of you would ask me to help you study."

"Huh," Cory said thoughtfully. "You want us to know what to study?"

"It's the whole idea," Mr. Turner said. "I stand in front of the class and talk, you learn. It's called education."

"So that's why this building exists!" Shawn exclaimed. "Some of us are students and some of us are teachers. And if the students listen to the teachers, then. . . oh, I almost got it."

"Then they get good grades," Cory finished.

"Yeah, but why?"

"Why do you think, Shawn?" Juliet asked.

"Because if you get good grades it means you've actually learned something. Am I close?"

"Close," Mr. Turner agreed. "Wouldn't you say, George?" he asked as Mr. Feeny joined them.

"I must say, I'm surprised, Mr. Turner," the older teacher told him.

"You know, guys, you can get As again anytime you want."

"You mean we can look at your lesson plan?" Shawn asked.

"Absolutely. It's up there on the blackboard every day."

"Whoa!" the boys exclaimed.

"Now get outta here. Go home and open a book," Mr. Turner told them.

"You got it," Shawn said before he turned to the redhead. "Can you read to me, Julie?"

The girl smiled brightly. "Anytime, Shawnie."

Mr. Feeny stopped them. "Hold it Mr. Matthews, Mr. Hunter. Am I to understand that you've heard all this and are now going home to open a book?"

"Yeah, we heard him loud and clear," Cory answered.

"He was talkin' right to us." 

[written dec. 2020]
[edited may 2022]