Chapter 3

Lanh wasn’t the only outcast barely making it through the Grant Valley High School snake pit of student relations. Don Campbell was foundering socially and academically. His grades weren’t good, in fact he was barely above a D in just about everything. He hasn’t cared about anything since he was eight when he watched his mother waste away, finally succumbing in morphine dulled agony to spinal cancer on that horrible Christmas day ... Thank God she was numbed out of her mind on the drug, so she wasn’t shrieking in agony when he spoke to her before she died. She could barely recognize him as she said goodbye and went peacefully holding his hand. But ever since, he just didn’t care about much of anything other than swimming.

He loved swimming, his dad has a big lake oddly called “The Pond” on their property and even before the ice has fully melted, he is in there swimming as hard as he can, his dad Ralph in the rowboat coaching him and keeping an eye out for snapping turtles. Don almost always skipped gym class, unless it was a swim day when he could swim in the indoor pool. He was so much better than his classmates, and his gym teacher, Mr. Mach, noticed it. He just couldn’t get through to that kid. He can’t have a kid skipping class on his JV team, but if he can get him on the team, they can work on that.

At swim team practice recently, Mr. Mach gave that piercing whistle that put the silver whistle he wore around his neck to shame. “Lewicki!” he called, “Front and center!”

Craig Lewicki, a junior but captain of the varsity swim team because of his talent, hoisted himself out of the pool and approached the towering hulk of a coach. “Yes coach?”

“Do you know Campbell?”

“Don? Yeah, kind of. We don’t talk, he’s not a talker. Not much of a team player...”

“I don’t care, he can swim, that’s what I care about. I want him for the two hundred freestyle, he’s got the speed, he’s got the lungs, we need him. Do what you can.”

“I don’t know coach...”

“I want a Christmas miracle, and I want it now Lewicki.”

“Yes coach!”

Don was only at the Christmas dance because Craig Lewicki wanted to talk to him about swimming. He hung around, dressed in his Goodwill Industries best. Not having older brothers, there were no hand-me-downs, so everything he has to wear comes from the secondhand store, and the “darling little angels” of Grant Valley High School made sure he was reminded of that loudly and often. He sullenly watched the girls dancing with each other to all the modern songs, and sometimes they even danced with boys. Whenever there was a slow dance, the floor emptied except for the couples that were dating. On rare occasions, a guy would ask a girl he didn’t know or just casually knew to dance a slow dance, and it was almost never when she said yes. Of course, later those same girls would complain that NO ONE asks them to dance.

The gym was decorated for the holiday dance, red and green crape paper streamers lined the walls, Christmas trees surrounded by gift wrapped boxes sat in each corner, there were smoke machines and disco balls, and a DJ dressed as Santa Claus spun actual records, but everything was actually on CD. Meanwhile faculty and parents stood at the ready to quash any and all unauthorized necking, groping, or canoodling.

Craig Lewicki saw Don there and was shocked, Don doesn’t come to school dances, he doesn’t come to sporting activities either. He just mopes around from class to class dressed in rags. He’s got to break through Don’s emotional wall and talk to him. Don showed up, which proved to Craig that he might be interested in talking about the team. Craig visited the sophomore boys’ swim class yesterday and saw what Coach Mach saw in Don. The kid had the speed and the lungs. He could be what they need in the 200. However, as Craig walked up to Don, Tad Larson and Dale Swenson, both seniors from the baseball team walked up to Don as well. Something was up.

“We got a chick you really need to ask to dance,” said Dale Swenson, a grinning blond, blue-eyed son of Norwegian stock that made up a large part of the population of Northern Minnesota. Don himself was more than half Norwegian, but with a name like Campbell, he was still an outcast.

“You betcha, go on man, it’s going to be hilarious,” said Tad Larson to Don. “We want to prank this chick.”

“Yeah, she’s going to be all spastic with her arms and hair flying around,” said Dale Swenson.

They had it in with the DJ. When the DJ saw Don on the dance floor with any girl, he was going to play a slow number, and they had the perfect nerd girl to get Don to ask to dance. They’ll convince Don that it will be a fast dance, but when the DJ plays a slow song, they’ll be so embarrassed. A laughingstock! Their girlfriends on the cheerleading squad have the perfect little nerd bitch ready. They just got to get Don to ask her. Then that ass kisser from the swim team shows up, Craig Lewicki.

Craig put his arm on Don’s shoulder like they’ve been buddies all these years. “Come on dude, what do you have to lose? Hey! there may be a spot opening up for a sophomore on the swim team, Jamie Davidson’s family is moving at the end of the quarter, we’ll need a middle-distance swimmer.”

Don had heard about Jamie’s family moving, but he knew he’d never make the swim team. “You think it will happen?” he asked, meaning the girl, not the swim team.

“Dude! It’s in the bag!” said Tad. “all you got to do is ask Miss Prim and Proper out on the dance floor. These guys say that next song is going to be a real rocker.”

“But I can’t dance,” said Don, looking down at his worn sneakers and his patched blue jeans. It’s been pretty lean at the farm this year. There’s no spare money for better clothes or even a trip to Goodwill. No girl would be seen dead with someone who dresses worse than a hobo.

“Dudes aren’t expected to know how to dance, girls practice all the time. Dolly tells me that this bitch can’t even tie her shoes without falling over,” grinned Dale Swenson. “Now go!” They gave Don a shove, and he took that long, lonely walk across the dance floor to meet his doom.

Escorted by Tad, Dale, and Craig, Don walked up to a group of girls who parted like the Red Sea before Moses, revealing Miss Prim and Proper, a tiny, skinny Asian girl with waist length black hair, thick square glasses, and a mouthful of braces. He knew her! She was the cutest girl he had ever seen. He’s been watching her from a distance since he first saw her at freshman orientation last year, but she was taking college prep classes and acing them while he was failing dummy classes. He felt even more like a nobody than ever before. “Oh God, I want to die,” he screamed to himself. But she was smiling at him like ... like ... like he was worthy ... oh God! His asshole puckered in fear as Tad nudged him.

Don stepped up to Lanh and tried to talk, but he was even failing that. “Care to ... I mean would you ... uhh ... like...” Don was dying; he hasn’t spoken to a girl since the fourth grade, and he was now face to face with HER!

“Dance? She’d love to!” called out one of the girls standing with HER. It wasn’t clear to either of the butts of the joke, but obviously to everyone else watching, these girls were in on the joke, too. They pushed the tiny girl out onto the dance floor where she stood staring at Don, her sweet smile never fading.

“What the fuck did you do?” demanded Craig as he faced off against Tad. Tad had four inches and thirty pounds on Craig, but Craig was a swimmer. Pound for pound there’s no high school athlete more powerful than a swimmer, except for a wrestler, and Craig was both.

“Lighten up fish,” sneered Tad, using the popular derogatory term for a swimmer. “It’s just a joke.”

Suddenly, there was another Asian girl next to Tad. She was taller than the butt of their joke, but still shorter than Tad. “If you do anything to embarrass my sister I will shatter your spine,” she hissed. There was fire in Kim-ly’s eyes, and a black belt in her closet.

“Take it easy lady,” said Tad but before he could say anything more, she had him in an extremely painful thumb lock and was twisting his arm up behind his back painfully.

“I’m already having a bad night,” she hissed in his ear, “so spending a few hours in the ER watching you die won’t bother me at all.”

The song ended and the gyrations of the other dancers slowed as the song faded. “I really don’t dance,” said Don as they took their place away from their tormenters.

“I don’t either,” said the little Asian so quietly that he could barely hear her.

“It’ll be fun,” assured Don, then suddenly his heart sank. Elton John began singing and everyone in the gym could name that tune by the opening three notes.

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside...

“Your Song by Elton John! oh God” groaned Don inwardly, one of the sappiest, most romantic slow dances on earth! Normally, all the dating couples would step out on the dance floor, but he and this girl were all alone out there, and a spotlight just illuminated them.

They realized they were both the butt of a colossal joke, and the entire school was in on it. The crowd waited in silence for the chance to laugh and humiliate the couple. Maybe he’ll wet himself in embarrassment. That would be incredible, but if the girl ran off in tears, that would be perfect. Kim-ly knew what was happening and was paralyzed with shock. Yeah, her sister is a tiny twerp and a pain in the ass, but she’s KIM-LY’s pain in the ass. No one tortures her sister without HER permission.

Both kids almost ran. They looked around nervously, but they didn’t run. “Let’s try it,” said Don softly. Almost magically, the two outcasts both decided “what the hell” and after a moment of fumbling, they figured out how to place their hands. Don even held her right hand with his left hand because he saw it in a movie. The thought that the last female whose hand he touched died before his eyes nine years ago kept entering his head, but he somehow chased it away. With more confusion than they could have believed possible, they started rocking in time to the music. “Hi, I’m Don,” he finally said, his voice harsh from the dryness of his throat.

“I’m Lanh,” muttered the little girl.

Don had seen her name in the town paper when she and her family moved to town. “I know, Lanh Nu-guy-en?” Don suddenly blushed crimson red. Here he was dancing with a girl, the Entire School was watching them, and he just slaughtered her name. He was so embarrassed; he nearly ran from the gym. God! She’s so cute! He’s been stalking her with his eyeballs since their freshman year. Whenever she walked past him in the hallway, his whole day brightened up.

Lanh suddenly giggled. “It’s pronounced N’win.”

He felt like such an idiot! He had heard her name a dozen times in morning announcements, but he didn’t associate it with HER. He saw her in the school paper almost every week when it came out and he thought her name was Lanh Nu-guy-en. When Lan Win was mentioned often in morning announcements for some academic achievement, he thought it was someone else. Now he really wanted to die. He soldiered on and asked, “How do you get Win out of Nguyen?”

Lanh looked up at Don and shrugged. “Don’t know!” and she giggled again. It was a nervous giggle, but it was more of a giggle of relief. He was a real person!

At the same time, Don thought ‘she didn’t hate being with me, and she’s a real person!’ “I like the way you laugh,” smiled Don, terrified that if he said the wrong thing, she’d run from him, and he’d be alone ... again. Like always.

“I like the way you blush,” smiled Lanh, “it’s cute,” which made Don blush even more. Suddenly Lanh gasped, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“No, it’s ok, it’s just ... I’ve never...” Don sputtered trying to explain the ocean of feelings that were exploding in his heart, how do you tell someone that you fell in love on first sight over a year ago? And as their embarrassment faded and their friendship blossomed, they stopped their Frankenstein like rocking and began gently swaying to the music. They didn’t become Fred and Ginger, but they became comfortable with each other. Little by little, their bodies grew closer together.

“Awwww,” sighed Kim-ly as her little sister and the young boy grew closer together, and their eyes remained locked. The world around them disappeared, and Elton continued singing. “Ain’t that sweet?” Kim-ly asked Tad. “She just saved your life, dumb shit.” She shoved Tad away and said, “Get the fuck out of here before I get mad.”

How wonderful life is while you’re in the world...

“I think I’m going to start liking this song now,” said Don as he got lost in Lanh’s coal-black eyes.

“I think so too,” said Lanh as she experienced the first genuine smile of her painful young life.

Craig Lewicki stood next to Kim-ly and smiled. He turned to her and said, “I like your style, you got fire!”

Kim-ly eyed him up and gave him a rating of Not Bad. “You old enough to buy beer?”

“Nope, sorry.”

“This day just keeps getting worse and worse,” she muttered.

Meanwhile, the song had changed to another slow dance, this time Lionel Richie, and Lanh and Don continued to dance. Seeing that the joke had fizzled out, other couples stepped out on the dance floor, and they were forgotten, just the way they like to be. Eventually, the DJ played a faster song and Don and Lanh drifted off to a dark corner of the gym where they talked about everything.

“Do you like to fish?” asked Don.

“I never tried,” she said, just excited there was a boy out there that wanted to talk to her. “But I like to cook fish!”

“We could be a team, I’ll catch them, you cook them, and we’ll sell them.”

“Yeah!” said Lanh, “we’ll start simple then as the customers get used to a fish fry, we’ll start working in some Asian fish dishes. Turmeric fish with rice noodles, no! Cá kho tộ!”

“What’s that?” asked Don, catching her enthusiasm.

“Caramelized and braised catfish, sweet and salty!” Lanh was getting hungry just thinking of it.

“I love catching catfish! We have tons in our pond!”

“Let’s do it!”

But just then Kim-ly appeared. “Let’s go Cinderella, your pumpkin coach awaits.”

“Awww, ten more minutes?”

“We’re already an hour overdue, let’s go.” Kim-ly showed Lanh that she had her coat. “Say your goodbyes ... and no tongue!”

“See you on Monday?” Don asked, overjoyed that he had a friend.

“Monday!” she said cheerfully, and like that, she was gone.

Don watched her and her sister’s head down the hallway to the exit when a storm of cheer leaders appeared in a mood to get revenge for their joke backfiring. They lost face in front of the entire school, and they wanted payback. They promised the humiliation of two nerds, and they end up with nerd romance. They’re going to get that bitch...

Don hopped off the bleachers and, sucking up a lungful of air, he held his arms out. “Let ‘em go.”

“Oh, fuck you, outta my way dork,” a blond tried to push past Don, but he stepped in front of her.

“Leave Lanh alone,” he ordered.

“Out of my way!” the blond screeched. Her scream brought her boyfriend Tad Larson and his toad Dale Swenson immediately.

“Problem?” grinned Tad.

“It’s not your concern,” said Don. His only thought was to distract the seniors long enough for Lanh to get away.

“I say it is,” said Tad and swung at the boy, who was barely half of his size. Don ducked and Tad missed with the punch, but Don was grabbed by Dale, who put him in a full Nelson hold. Don was unable to use his arms or even get away. Tad grinned and advanced on Don.

The beating Don took was sharp and brutal. Tad and Dale used him as a punching bag and didn’t leave a square inch above the waist untouched. When Don finally slumped to the ground, the cheerleaders began kicking his prone body until the shouts of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” brought the school administrators.

As Mr. Mach and several other teachers tried to sort out what happened, they failed to keep track of Don. He slipped out of the school and wandered off the school property without his coat. The cold actually eased his pain as he walked, hunched over from the beating he took to the midsection. Eventually, a car rolled up, and the window rolled down. It was Mr. Ritenour, one of dad’s buddies from the legion. “Don! Donovan!” but Don kept walking. “Come on, you’ll freeze to death.”

Don looked at him sadly with an eye that began swelling shut. “I ... I don’t...”

“Damn it Don, I have a full six pack and an empty bladder, I can bother you all night long or I can give you a quick ride home, what’ll it be?” Don surrendered and climbed into the old car. “Damn son! What happened to you?”

“High school stuff,” muttered Don, “usual thing. Please don’t tell dad.”

“Ok, but remember I saved your life. I may come calling for help come calving season.”

Don nodded; all dairy farmers need help come calving season.

Don hardly got any sleep that weekend, mostly from the pain he suffered after Lanh left the dance. But beside the pain, he spent the weekend torn between anger at those guys who used him to embarrass Lanh, and anger at himself for believing that he could actually have a shot at joining the swim team. That and getting the crap beaten out of him. Don kept thinking of Lanh. Their dance was a joke. They weren’t supposed to actually dance. They were supposed to be embarrassed, and they were both the biggest jokes of all the “Woodcutters” at Grant Valley High School.

At least Lanh left unscathed. Don didn’t care what the bullies did to him. He was worried about Lanh. She was the first girl to treat him nicely; he wanted to protect her, and Lanh had no clue of what had happened after she left.

Don had lunch during fifth period and, as usual, he sat in the back corner of the cafeteria, far from the food line. He sat facing the back wall so no one would see him. It was the loser’s corner. This is where the nerds, the geeks, the dweebs, the rejects, the losers, sat, and it was his home. He opened up his brown paper bag and found a bologna sandwich, a bag of chips, and an apple. His dad packed several lunches for him before he left for work in Mankato on Thursday, and this was exactly the same as all the others. Don sighed. His teeth and jaw hurt so much that everything in that lunch bag was impossible to eat. He didn’t really care; he was done with high school. Right now, his only plan was to put his books in his locker and leave. To where he was going was something he’d decide once he got there.

At the far end of his table, someone sat down. He didn’t look to see who it was. If they were sitting here and not with the animated crowds toward the front of the cafeteria, then they were a loser too. He stared at the half-smashed sandwich (Larry Jensen tried to crush Don’s lunch earlier) and ignored whomever it was at the other end of the table. Whoever it was picked up their tray and stepped away in a few moments anyhow. He made another attempt at biting the sandwich; it hurt so much, but he was so hungry! He could bite a bit off, but he couldn’t chew, so he tried biting off tiny pieces and swallowing them unchewed. Just then, someone sat down right across from him. He heard a tiny feminine voice say, “Don?”

He didn’t look up; he knew it was Lanh. Her sweet little voice was music to his soul. He wanted to scoop her up and run away with her, but he couldn’t let her see him like this. The jerks in this school must be torturing her just like they’re torturing him. He kept his head lowered and said, “I’m sorry I put you through that, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know...” He stopped right there; he didn’t know how to talk to a girl...

“You didn’t know what ... that I was lonely?” She didn’t sound angry, she sounded sad. “You didn’t know that I was scared to talk to any man that wasn’t a relative?” Lanh freaked herself out. Oh God, I don’t believe I said that. She groaned inwardly. Now he’s going to know that I’m a loser. She had sought him out to say goodbye. There was a bottle of sleeping pills she had stashed behind her fish tank. She stole the pills one by one from her mother’s medicine cabinet and now she had enough. This morning, she was walking on air. Then Cindy Reese told her all about the joke and how she and Don were just dorks and looked so homely out there on the dance floor, a total joke.