The Girl Who Speaks With Algebra

19: Dressing Wounds

Once all the books were shelved, I still had a bit of time in the library stuck behind a desk. So I ran a search on "Equal Temperament", as Seiko had suggested. There is actually a lot of mathematics underlying our modern music.

Each note in the chromatic scale is related to the frequency of the adjacent notes by a factor of the twelfth root of two (an irrational number), since there are 12 notes in a chromatic scale. (That's A to G, plus the sharps. Or flats, depending on your direction.)

So while a "fifth" in the "Just Scale" is a pleasing ratio of 3/2 or exactly 1.5, in "Equal Temperament" that fifth is actually a ratio of 2 to the power of 7/12ths, or about 1.4983. It has to be that way, so that you don't need to retune your piano every time you want to play in a different key. And while that's not as pleasing as a ratio, it's not necessarily something you'd perceive.

Incidentally, apparently Handel's tuning fork for A4 was likely 422.5 hertz, not 440 hertz, as adopted in 1939. (You might know George Frideric Handel, he wrote that big holiday "Messiah" in 1741?) So the music we reproduce now is sharper than it was back in the day. Why hadn't THAT ever been brought up in my classes? Was it a 4th year thing?

Paige texted me the location for our self-defense classes as I was heading out of the library. I barely had time to send back 'see you there' – I had to grab some food on the way to my last class. Then, once that course was done with, I beat tracks back home to drop off my stuff and change into more appropriate clothing.

Once there, I saw that my computer was charged! In celebration, I pulled up one of my favourite songs, playing it as I changed into my track pants: Taylor Swift's "How You Get the Girl".

Well, damn, I was seeing THAT song in a whole new light now.

I hurried back out to meet up with Paige. It actually took me a moment to recognize her, because I'd been looking for the usual twintails.

"Hi Rose!" said a pretty looking blonde standing in front of the building as I ran up. I did a doubletake.

Paige was wearing a plain blue T-shirt and a pair of shorts. They didn't hug as tightly to her curves as some of her other outfits, but boy did those shorts help to show off her legs. Her legs, which disappeared into short socks and running shoes – not the black buckled shoes with the heel.

So Paige wasn't in heels. Nor did she have twintails; all of her blonde hair had been pulled back into a single, more practical ponytail. Her makeup was subdued too, even more so than on the previous day. She looked almost... normal. As in, not jaw-droppingly beautiful, though still sexier than an average girl.

I must have looked like I was in shock or something, because by the time my gaze had migrated to her face, she was biting her lip, looking worried. "T-Too soon for Frumpy Paige?"

"Not at all," I assured her. "It's a nice way to show off those legs. Is there a move where they'll get locked around my head?"

"Rose!" Her gaze flickered left and right. "We're in public."

"Sorry," I apologized, trying not to smile. After all, no one was listening to us. "I guess we work on those hip thrusts first."

"Rose, if you're not going to take this SERIOUSLY..."

Her tone more than anything banished the thoughts that had started running through my head. "I am. I will. I'm sorry, Paige, truly – those remarks were immature. Forgiveness?"

She let out a breath. "Of course. Honestly, I'm not MAD at you, it's just we need our focus here, not –" Her own gaze seemed to wander for a moment before snapping back up. "Anyway. We're not in the same class. Beginner's session is down the hall. Here, I'll show you."