Chapter One

‘In ten years, you’ll be laughing at this.’

That was what Cam’s late father used to tell him. When he got bullied by older kids in the playground. When he failed at piano, swimming and Taekwondo.

“OI! How many bloody times do you need me to explain this to you?” Mr Loh was short and stocky, his skin tanned from years of water polo.

“Are you stupid?” said Ms D, her powdered face set in a frown. She had frazzled grey hair and dark red lipstick, and sauntered around the school in flip-flops and patterned blouses, glaring at them.

The two teachers had been hammering Cam for ten minutes for being unable to answer an Advanced Maths question. It was the second of January, the first day of the new school year, and everyone else in class had left for lunch. He was made to stay back till he could solve the question.

Cam stared at the paper and tried to make the numbers mean something. But all he wanted to do was disappear.

Just wait. In ten years all of this would seem funny. Maybe two years. Maybe one. Maybe a week.

“What must your second step be?” Ms D rapped her knuckles on the paper in front of him.

“Errrr…” Cam said, trying to make his head produce an answer.

The teacher shook her head and sighed.

“Oi! Why are you so slow! Don’t waste our time!” snapped Mr Loh. “You could have clarified your doubts during my class! Why didn’t you? You’re not interested right?”

The mantra seemed to hold some truth, coming from his father. The man was never bothered by his mistakes. He flunked most of his subjects in school, got suspended, got bullied, and was always last in military training. Cam could still see him at the head of their old kitchen table, his loud friends crammed around it on plastic stools, retelling the story of the worst caning of his life until the whole flat was howling. Even the incessant fights he had with his ex-wife, Cam’s mother, were reduced to chuckles for that little group of friends.

The tougher the time, the funnier the story, he would say.

Whatever else was true of him, his father had never once lied to him. Cam had checked, over the years, the way a boy checks a wobbly tooth. Every promise had been kept or apologised for. It was the one thing he had never had to wonder about.

“You are already in Year 2. You still don’t even know Year 1 concepts?” said Mr Loh, his voice shrill and passionate. “If you’re not interested, just tell me.”

Cam felt that he put in effort. But his year at the school had made him realise that he might not actually know what effort meant. He felt like he was trying, but was he trying as hard as his peers? How could he tell?

He started to explain that he did try, but Ms D cut him off to give him the answer to the question.

“See? You kids are giving your poor teachers like Ms D so much stress,” said Mr Loh, shaking his head.

Cam mumbled an apology, his voice going tiny as usual, the word coming out as ‘urry’.

“We don’t want your sorry!” said Mr Loh. “You think you can just throw us slipshod work, and say sorry? Look at the time, my lunch break is almost over!”

The tougher the time, the funnier the story.

Mr Loh slammed the table. “OI! Write down your answer and finish the question!”

Cam scrambled to comply, the back of his shirt wet with sweat.

“You better buck up, understand?” the teacher said.

“Look at all your friends. They can do it, why not you?” asked Ms D. “It’s your attitude. You have to try a lot harder. And clarify your doubts. We are not here to scold you. We are here to help you.”

His father’s words were comforting to remember. They did not make anything easier.