Chapter 7: Of Ducks and Dogs
McKenzie kicked her legs out of boredom. She supported Elliot, of course, but she really had no desire to sit in a room just to feel like the odd one out. She’d done her experimenting and ended up full circle where she started. As far as McKenzie Lowell was concerned, anxiety happened to other people. Not that she talked to people about that much. She’d had a lot of conversations with adults who would tell her that, as she got older, she’d regret things she’d done and that she’d look back on her younger years with trepidation. There was often a little smirk of ‘you’ll see’. So far, they’d been wrong. McKenzie didn’t do regrets. Every decision she had ever made, she had made with the information available to her. As such, she did not consider things not turning out ideally as making mistakes. As she got older, she simply acquired more information. The way she saw it, there was no point in looking back with a kind of awkward ‘oh my god I can’t believe I was so stupid’ mindset. She chose to look at the future with an almost diabolical certainty that she was only going to get more powerful. McKenzie was a locomotive on a train going from A, where she was now, to B, her powerful future. While she wasn’t sure exactly what or where B was yet, she was more than happy to C where the tracks would take her.
Toby walked past and derailed the locomotive. He was cute and tall and he had a hint of a stubble and short hair that she wanted to run her hands through and why was it so hard for her to think with this boy around? Not to mention the fact that he seemed so genuinely nice, devoid of all the competitive nonsense she’d grown so used to from her old classmates. They’d seen each other a few times in the past couple of weeks, since he’d taken the four of them under his wing, and Toby had never not been good. McKenzie considered herself a good judge of character, and she kept trying to find red flags, and it was slowly starting to dawn on her that there just… weren’t any. She’d been fully prepared to overlook one or two of them -- she wasn’t looking for anything serious -- but it looked like Toby had the gall to be a Good Guy.
“Hey,” he said as he sat down on the ground across from her. The hall was pretty empty, the society meetings tended to happen later in the afternoon. She waved at him, trying to think of a response, which was already ridiculous. She would normally just say what was most appropriate, but she didn’t know what was appropriate -- or rather, wanted to make sure she wasn’t being inappropriate -- and then that was ridiculous because this shouldn’t be hard. Also he was looking at her expectantly, so she had to say something.
“Hi,” she said back, a Machiavellian masterstroke of tactical brilliance. She decided not to push her luck and just let him do the talking. It was a strategy she’d always enjoyed before, and it worked so much better than people realized. People had a tendency to start talking around her, and after a while all she had to do was hand them some rope, if she wanted to. Listening was so much more powerful than talking sometimes. He looked like the kind of person who would talk himself into a corner, at which point she would be in full control of the situation. She barely resisted nodding resolutely at herself. Her plan was made.
“How’ve you been?” Toby asked.
“Oh, you know, just trying to find my way around campus, classes, that kind of thing. It’s different from high school, but I don’t think I’m doing too bad of a job.” She clamped her mouth shut. Damn it. That was the opposite of what she and her brain had agreed on. She’d have to give herself a stern talking to later. “What… uh, what about you?”
“Oh, I’ve had a whole year to get used to this not being high school anymore,” he said with a wink and a grin, and McKenzie suppressed a groan, with effort. She was making a fool of herself. That didn’t happen to her. She needed to find a way to take it back. She was formulating a new angle of approach when she caught him looking at her and her brain did that thing, like walking into a lantern pole while talking to someone. Her thoughts were interrupted by a metaphorical ‘clunk’ and a literal ‘um’ as he smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re getting settled in, though. I can imagine it’s a lot, being one of the only ones of your kind here.” She nodded, waiting for the software that ran her mouth to reboot. “You waiting on someone in there?” Another nod. She knew better than to out her friend like that, but she also couldn’t pretend like she’d made a huge number of new friends on campus yet. It had only been a couple of weeks, after all.
“Yeah, dropped ‘em off and I was thinking of waiting around until the meeting thing is over. I don’t have anything better to do and I wasn’t in the mood to sit alone in my room or wander around campus. I’m--” She cut herself off before she started oversharing again. “I was in the mood for some company,” she said with a curt little smile.
“Hell,” he said, ”I’m company. These things can last a while. Wanna go for a walk?” Someone had unplugged the cable from her brain and now every channel was set to static. Somehow, this sport-boy, with a t-shirt that was just tight enough across his chest to make her want to reach out and touch it, managed to look both composed and like an excited dog about to go on a walk around the block. And, more importantly, it was working for her. Infuriatingly so. He blinked a few times, awaiting her response. It was too late to pretend she hadn’t seen him, wasn’t it? Maybe she could fake her death, or maybe a little bout of narcolepsy. Wait, would he be able to smell that? He was a dog after all. Briefly, the image of him coming in close to make sure she was okay, his face close to hers, flashed across her brain and she had to grit her teeth not to scream.
“Sounds good,” she managed, although she did sound slightly like she was being garotted by a particularly ineffectual hitman. She got up and flattened her dress. It was a blue knee-length summer dress that usually went with a large hat, but it had been windy out today and she hadn’t been willing to risk losing it, so she’d put her hair in a braid, knowing she’d look fantastic regardless. She always looked fantastic. So why did she feel like she was preening? “Are we going anywhere in particular?”
Toby shook his head. “Nah, not really. But late afternoon is a nice time to walk around the place.” He immediately set the pace by walking ahead, making her feel foolish for having to catch up with the guy, doubly so because she had to crane her neck a bit just to look at him. As they got to the main doors and stepped outside, Toby inhaled deeply. “I just love that warm afternoon breeze,” he said. “Especially out here. You don’t get that kind of air in the city.” He looked at her. “Where are you from?”
“The city,” she said with a blush as she avoided his gaze. “Austin. This place mostly smells damp to me.” He grinned and nudged her with his shoulder. His smile was infectious but it was offset by her own… feelings. She refused to call them anxiety or worry. Anxiety happened to other people. Not to her.
“That’s not the worst thing in the world. Even if you can’t smell the summer, you sure look like it.” That was a compliment, surely? Or was it an observation? She knew she was dressed for warmth, but maybe he meant it as a playful jab or a flirty remark and why was she overthinking this?
“Thanks,” McKenzie said, and put some loose strands of hair behind her ear, and immediately resented herself for acting like a demure waif. “It just sort of happens.” He raised his eyebrows as they started walking down a little path that was slowly meandering them around the main campus building and occasionally through the trees. He looked like he was waiting for more of an explanation, and she found it hard to deny him. “I’ve always had a pretty easy time dressing for whatever environment I’m in.” She thought back on high school, on her life in general. “Both climate and social, come to think of it.”
“Hell of a skill,” he said, crossing his hands behind his head and, she presumed, stretching. It lifted his shirt a little and her brain short-circuited when she saw his toned stomach for a moment, illuminated by the afternoon-light. “It’s a lot easier for guys,” he added, unaware of the fact that McKenzie was trying not to stumble onto her face as he looked up at the afternoon sky. “Just a shirt and jeans, most of the time.”
“Yeah,” McKenzie said. “But even then, you haven’t done a half-bad job of working with what you have.” She had just managed to look back up at his face again when he lowered his arms.
“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“You dress well,” she said. “It really… works.”
“Aw, thanks!” he said, and smiled so broadly and innocently it made McKenzie want to punch a tree. “I mostly try to make sure my hygiene is alright. Fashion just kinda misses me, y’know? It’s just not that important.” She nodded, even though her brain was telling her that no, she didn’t agree. Fashion was important.
“Well,” she added as they rounded a bend, bringing the lake into full view. There were ducks. Little ones.
“Well?”
“It’s not just about fashion,” she said as she knelt down by the water. A few ducklings started to splash up closer to look at her curiously. She could practically hear Toby not understanding behind her. “It’s about presentation. Clothes matter, of course,” she said, and shot him a glance that she hoped was at least a little teasing, “but in the end it’s about how you wear them.”
He sat down next to her and plucked out a long blade of grass, sticking it out at one of the ducks, who seemed to try to playfully bite at it. “How do you even wear a shirt differently?” Oh, Toby. Beautiful fool.
“Well,” McKenzie said as she extended a hand to the nearest duckling, who eyed it with suspicion before swimming closer, “it’s about how you hold yourself, and how you take care of yourself. Hygiene plays a part, of course, but there’s more to it than that. It’s about attitude. Attitude can make you attractive.”
“So you’re saying,” Toby said, thoughtfully embroiled in a staring contest with the duck he’d been teasing, “that I wear my shirt well because of my attitude.” She caught him looking at her and with trepidation she realized she’d been given a length of rope. “And that, according to you, makes me attractive.”
She jutted her jaw forward as the duckling opened its beak and tried to bite down on a finger experimentally. She barely felt it, but the small bird seemed to be having a good time. “What I’m saying,” she said, weighing her words carefully so as not to accidentally admit to finding him hot again, “is that while I’m careful about the clothes I wear, I could look cool and summery and cute while wearing a Cookie Monster onesie.”
“Do you have a Cookie Monster onesie?”
“Toby,” she said, and gave him a derisive look. “What kind of woman do you take me for? Of course I have a Cookie Monster onesie. How else am I going to fit in on a campus like this?” His face split into a wide grin and she couldn’t help herself from smiling right back. They sat like that by the water for a little while longer, occasionally saying nonsense, and she realized she was enjoying making him smile, partly because he was good at doing the same and partly because it made her feel nice. Besides, she could always claim she was just keeping the ducks company.