Alchemy and Algebra

Chapter 18

Kennedy sat in the passenger seat of Charlie's car, tapping her foot against the dusty floor-mat. She was on her way to an unspecified destination and wasn't entire comfortable with not knowing where Charlie was taking her. He'd told her only that they were 'meeting up with some friends' and had refused to tell her more. He'd said that he didn't want her googling and over-analyzing the experience before actually experiencing it, and had told her to wear something that would be comfortable if she were sitting on the ground.

Kennedy shot Charlie a questioning look when he turned into the driveway of a local high school. He gave her a sphinx-like smile, but still said nothing. He drove behind the red brick building and into a quarter-full parking lot.

Behind the back seat of Charlie's car, visible through the slanted hatchback window, Kennedy had spotted two small-ish suitcases as she'd gotten into his car. Charlie took them now and walked with Kennedy into the building. Her stomach flipped when she walked through the door. She'd gone to a different high school in a different town, but each one had the same smell: industrial floor cleaner, hormones and angst. Kennedy hadn't attended high school, she'd endured it. She'd liked some of the people, but she'd liked them best hanging out in someone's basement on a Saturday night.

"We're hanging out at a high school on a Sunday morning...for fun?" she asked.

Charlie nudged her with his shoulder. "No algeb-- No Spanish class today, I promise."

"I didn't mind Spanish. It's a beautifully logical language. English is a mess compared to Spanish."

Charlie turned down a short hallway, moving through the building with the ease of familiarity. Kenned heard a noise coming from down the hallway, a sort of cacophony of banging. He stopped at a set of double doors, set down one of his cases, and pulled open the windowless metal door.

Inside was a small gymnasium. The center of a basketball court had been covered with gym mats, and the gym mat was covered in drummers. Most held drums the size and shape of small waste-paper baskets, though some had larger drums, or coffee-cup sized bongos. One man carried a drum that looked like an over-sized Frisbee and was softly tapping it with a double-ended drumstick. The drummers were both men and women of a wide variety of ages and clothing styles. If she ever needed a diverse population sample to survey, she knew where to come.

Charlie set down his cases as one man spotted him, then walked over to he and Kennedy. She guessed the man's original hair color as medium brown, but her only hint was the stubble at the sides of his head. The top was dyed in a rainbow of colors and messily spiked along the crest of his head. He greeted Charlie warmly, then turned to Kennedy.

"I'm Mortimer, and you've gotta be Melody. Charlie said you were cute, but he didn't tell me you were so *hot*. "

Mortimer wore wide black shorts that went down to his knees, a sleeveless white t-shirt, and several necklaces made of colorful thread, carved wooden beads, and aquamarine stones. His long, skinny arms were decorated in a riot of tattoos, and he held them wide to request a hug.

"Kennedy. Nice to meet you, too," she said, oddly pleased by his overly-familiar greeting.

Charlie stepped to Kennedy's side and put an arm protectively around her waist. "Of course I didn't tell you she was gorgeous. I don't advertise my best treasures." He gave her a squeeze that made her heart do a double-thump.

Mortimer held his hands up in surrender, but his eyes crinkled with laughter. "Point taken. So, Kennedy, are you a drummer like Chuckles, here?"

Kennedy spun to face Charlie. She found him blushing and giving Mortimer a sharp look.