Cory and Topanga met Shawn in front of the school building."Shawnie! How was the train?" Cory asked excitedly.

"Ugh. We got delayed for 20 minutes outside of Manayunk. You know, I was planning to get here early and now the whole thing is shot."

"Early? Who are you and what have you done with Shawn Hunter?"

"I'm turning over a new leaf. Take a look at my schedule."

Cory took the schedule Shawn handed him and read. "AP Chemistry, AP French, AP English Lit, Film studies, lunch, Trigonometry, Creative Writing, AP US History, AP Human Geography. Wait, Shawn, we only have one class together!"

"Yeah, but I made sure we have the same lunch."

"When did you get so smart?"

"Cory, do you remember in sixth grade when we took that IQ test, and I let you copy off my paper before I changed the answers?"

"Yeah, and then when they were going to send me to that weird school you made me tell my parents we'd found the answer key in the trash."

"Ok, well I'm done changing my answers."

Topanga followed Shawn to the chemistry classroom. They made it just before the bell. The teacher used the roll call to assign lab partners.

"Hunter, Shawn."

"Here." Shawn raised his hand, and the teacher looked at him.

"Wait, aren't you that kid who moved in with Turner last year?"

"Uhh…yeah."

She look back down at the roster "Are you sure you're in the right class?"

"Yes." There was a slight edge to Shawn's voice.

"Very well, you're with Miss Lawrence and Mr. Minkus."

Shawn got up and took a seat at a lab table with Topanga and a horrified-looking Minkus.

"This can't be happening," Minkus muttered. He had gotten taller, but changed nothing about his clothes or, apparently, feelings towards Shawn, since they'd last been in classes together in sixth grade.

"Relax, Minkus, I'm not going to mess with you."

"Yeah right, the poor man's James Dean shows up in an AP class because he's discovered a sudden interest in chemistry, I suppose."

That gave Shawn an idea for a poem, which he scribbled in the margins of his notes as the teacher started her lecture:

I am the poor man's James Dean

The Fonze of the 90s

Bowdlerized and airbrushed

For the girls with Lisa Frank binders

Who don't understand

Why they want to hold me.