Young Writers Society

Second Always Comes Last

Chen

______________________

I met Shane on the tracks. He only spoke to me because Daniel wasn’t there.

I don’t understand what about me is so despicable. So detestable? If it is true then why am I never told it? Why have I never been spat in the face these very words? I would prefer it that way. That truth.

Perhaps I am not hated. I haven’t given anyone the reason to do so. But even then, I am most often overpassed. Overlooked. Purposely.

Shane talked to me that day because Daniel wasn’t there.

Shane Chen; he was in my history class. I knew that already. I already knew everyone’s names in my history class because they were the same faces as the faces of our stream class. History, or social studies, was still compulsory that year. I already knew it was on my list for next.

Our class stream is B. Which technically means we are the second best in the school. ‘The second smartest.’ I don’t know how true it really is, because everyone from B-D seems to be be mixed and overlapping in ability. Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses. However I do find it insulting when everyone who meets me automatically assumes I am lower than G.

However whatever the streams, one thing is obvious. A is the elite; and it is unfair. They get special treatment. Special opportunities, extra certifications and favour with the teachers. Most people guess that B is the same. It’s not the case. We are just the top of the rabble.

And at the top of the top of the rabble is Chen, ranked first in the class. He could have very well been in A, but everyone knows he didn’t want to. Something about it that made him lay off on his exams just a little.

There’s a reason Shane is the best, which is the same reason as every other Asian kid from A down to E has. His parents.

Study study study. ‘I can’t because I have to study.’ ‘I can’t because my parents said I have to study.’ ‘I have to get this and that or my parents will...’ I’m sick of it. I hate it. I guess I am really a cynical person, not that I ever express it on the outside. I guess you can say I don’t understand it, having pushy parents. I won’t even comment on my own. But achieving excellence is an important aspect of my life. I may not have paternal being to push it upon me, but I sure as do push it on myself.

I like to think I’m flexible, but my temper is short. If I get anything under 85%, I rage. I rip my paper into shreds. I yell at the rubbish bin on the far side of the school as I thrust the delicate work into its bowels with my first. People stare.

-

I stare. I stare at the rails. The train track had been an important part of my life. And now it was even more important.

The blood didn't show up against the metal; if anything, it just dulled it as it dried. It showed in the gravel though. Each patch where every main bit of him lay. The shirt. The head. The arm.

I don’t look at the head. I don’t look at the head. I don’t look at the head.

Barely attached. Facing away. Hair, mottled and matted with his own innards. He died for us. He died for us.

I was the second one to retch, but nothing comes out. Everyone is stock still. Everyone is staring. It was the first time I had ever seen Shane’s eyes so wide.

-

He never lost his cool. No, Chen wouldn’t do that. In-fact, when it comes to his grades and his assignments I don’t think he gives a crap. His parents care on his behalf. his parents stress on his behalf. His concern would be elsewhere. Doing other things. Watching other things.

When I had first met him I was on the train first. My stop is at the far end, and all the drivers know me well so they sometimes give me free trips. I have my seat; always the same seat. The corner one by the post. Chen got on the train when we were near to the city and the chairs were already full.

I know exactly when he gets on, and exactly where. When you become a habitual train rider, you tend to take a preference of which carriage to jump on. Him and I had taken the same. I used to follow their movement everyday. He was normally with his friend Daniel. I just saw the two of them as some boys from my class.

Daniel wasn’t there. A few stops in, Shane, obviously bored, decides to make conversation.

‘Heeeyyy? Never knew we took the same train.’

Yeah right.

“Yeah I noticed you before but never enough time to really talk you know.”

‘Yeah Daniel Swanson normally rides with me but he came down with something.’

“Yeah I know.”

‘You know he was sick...?’

“I know he took the train.”

‘Yeah these bastards. All of the public transport has turned into a piece of crap recently, all they want is money money money, it's cheaper to goddamn buy a car nowadays. They’re draining me.’

My eyebrows raised. This was unexpected. Shane, not giving a toss while doing everything perfect at the same time, complaining to me his woes.

“Something’s bitten you.”

‘Damn right it has. My parents are making me pay half my own fares. And I don’t get pocket money or crap. I don’t think they considered they’re forcing me into child labour. Do you know who hires a fourteen year old these days? No one.’

He's exaggerating. I can tell. I know the true deal; half a train fare is the cost of a bus. But Shane wants to keep taking the train because Daniel is there.

“Study and child labour at the same time. Sounds intense.”

‘Yeah.’

“Sucks to be you.”

‘Sucks to be anyone nowadays. We are all just pawns of the industry in the end. Do you know how many other Me’s there are out there. Either same name. Same situation. What the heck am I really?’

“We were talking about something just like that at history club yesterday.”

Shane leaned himself against the pole I was gripping so tightly, causing it to shudder beneath my fingers.

‘I didn’t know there was a history club.’

“Well, it’s not really yet.. or I don’t know. It’s just me, Hutcheon and Sir.”

Shane Chen was the third.

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