Yeah, my name is Wynter Harmony. My dad’s last name really was Harmony, I say “was” because he died before I was born. My mom named me Wynter because I was a ray of hope in the darkest winter of her life. I admit she’s a little unbalanced, but you have to give her credit for all she’s been through. I digress, this has nothing to do with the story I’m about to tell but my name usual sparks much conversation. Well, here’s my story.
It was April of my senior year and I was just basically marking time until graduation. I already had my scholarship to my dream school, now all I had to do was pass my classes. New York University was five months away and that was all I could think about. Nothing else seemed to matter until the day of my eighteenth birthday, that day changed me forever.
All I wanted for my birthday was a tattoo, so I went to get one for myself. I had no morning classes, so it was the perfect time. I spent months researching all the tattoo parlors in the area. I knew which ones had the best artists and which ones were the cleanest. I picked the one I liked the best.
As I entered the little shop, I was hit with the heavy scent of antiseptic and ink. I walked towards the tattoo artist, who knew me all too well from my previous visits. Bull, such a typical name for an ex-biker turned tattoo artist, already knew what I wanted and when I was coming in.
Bull had me lay down on his padded table. I pulled my shirt up past my stomach. Bull cleaned the spot in the center of the small of my back and put on the imprint of the lines he would follow on me. I heard the whirr of his tattoo needles and began to feel the pinpricks in my back. It hurt real bad at first but once I got used to it, it didn’t bother me any more. After forty-five minutes of pricking, I stood up to look in the mirror.
“Great job Bull. I just love your work,” I said as I admired the orange and red fairy on my back. I was a little sore but I was happy with my new piece of body art. I payed Bull and headed to school.
I pulled into a parking space near the front of the school, I hate to admit it but I am a snob at school. The other kids were so superficial and annoying, they thought high school was the only thing that mattered, but I knew better. I strutted through the halls on my way to typing. My best friend, Ivy, was already at her computer. I took my place next to her and began to type.
“Happy Birthday babe. How did the tattoo excursion go?”
“Thanks, Ive. Fabulously. You want to see, it’s still a little swollen and bruised but you’ll get the idea.” I stood up and pulled up the back of my shirt.
“Beautiful, Wynter, just beautiful.” I sat down and renewed my touch key. “So what is the birthday girl doing this evening?”
“Don’t know, don’t know. What plans do you have?”
“Oh, I was thinking about taking this girl I know to her favorite tea house for some tea and cake.”
“Might it be the Boulder Dushanbe Tea House?”
“Might be.”
“Lucky girl.”
“I thought so.”
Now that I knew what I was doing after school I just had to get through one more class. My school had a block program, which meant I only had half of my classes each day. I wandered towards the front office with Ivy. I was the assistant principle’s student aid and Ivy had gymnastics. We arranged to meet at her car after school and I headed into the office.
Mr. Karmen was on the phone when I came in, so I sat down to await instructions. He put his hand across the receiver, “Hold on a second, I have an important job for you to do.” All his jobs were “important jobs,” so this came as no surprise to me.
“Wynnie, how ya doin’?” I let him call me Wynnie because he reminded me of my grandpa.
“Pretty good. Whatcha got for me today?”
“Well, I have an important job for you but you can’t tell anyone about it.”
“Okay?” It was more of a question than a response.
“A band wants to film a video here, so I need you to give them a tour of the school. They should be here any minute.”
“I can do that. What band?”
“Well...” He was interrupted by a knock on the open door to his office. “Oh hello, come right in.”
I turned around and my breath caught in my throat. The most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my entire life was standing at the door. The blond-streaked, leather clad Adonis with fiery blues eyes flashed me a stunning smile. I nearly fainted as Mr. Karmen stood to shake his hand.
“I thought the other band members were coming with you.”
“We were supposed to arrive on separate planes but their flights got cancelled. So it’s just me, but they trust my judgement.”
“Ah. This is Wynter Harmony. She’ll be giving you a tour of the school.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m John Rzeznik.” He flashed me another one of those dazzling smiles, I could barely stand to shake his outstretched hand.
“All right then Wynter, I’ll leave Mr. Rzeznik in your capable hands.”
“Okay. Follow me.” I walked out of the office with John in tow. As the tour progressed we began to make small talk. I just couldn’t stand it any more, I had to ask the question that had been nagging me since I met him.
“All right, so why my school? I mean it’s so drab, dirty, melancholy. Ugh.”
“Well, it’s kinda what we’re looking for. No offence or anything, but we need a school that’s kinda, urm, lower class.”
“None taken. You’ve certainly found that here. Uck. I hate this place.”
“This school or just high school in general.”
“It’s not high school, it’s high schoolers.”
“You definitely don’t fit in with them. Had I not meet you at your high school, I would have thought you were twenty-one or twenty-two. How old are you anyway?”
“Eighteen, as of today actually.”
“Well, Happy Birthday. What are you doing to celebrate?”
“Thank you. I got a tattoo this morning. After school, my best friend is taking me to my favourite tea house.”
“A tattoo,” he raised an eyebrow at me.
“Yeah, wanna see.”
“All right, let’s see.”
“You show me your’s, I’ll show you mine.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s see.” I turned around and pulled up the back of my shirt. “Cute, still healing though, huh?”
“Of course, I just got it this morning.”
“Oh, right.” I looked up at the clock on the wall in the cafeteria.
“We better get back to the office, unless you enjoy being mobbed by a crowd of overly affectionate, hyperactive, high school girls.”
“Ah, I don’t mind it that much, but I guess we better. Um, we need some extras for the video, would you be interested?”
“I’d love to, when?”
“In two weeks, we start shooting on Friday night.”
“I’ll be here.” We were standing in front of the main office. “Well, this is my stop. I guess I’ll see you at the shoot.” I didn’t want the moment to end.
“Uh, yeah, at the shoot.” He just stood there looking at me, then his feet, then back at me. The bell was going to ring soon, I had to do something. So I reached up and hugged him. At first he just stood there and I was afraid I had overstepped my bounds. Then he put his arms around my waist and pulled me in tight. We pulled apart when we heard people coming.
“Bye.”
“Bye, happy eighteenth birthday.”