Random Writings

Little Andy

I wrote this short story for my Creative Writing class. But I hope you like it. -Jaxon

Andy's POV

"When was the last time you and I went to the beach together, Andy?" My cousin's voice cut through my thoughts. I look away from the car window to him. The brightness of his clothes automatically catching my attention once again.

Normally I would ignore his clothes, but today the colors he is wearing are clashing. His day glow V-neck shirt makes him look tanner, than he really is. The sky blue fades up to a neon green on his swim trunks. The green and orange are not working together. I get the urge to hand him a black t-shirt, then I remembered that I don't have my normal swim wear. Wishing that I had my light tan chest binder and my red swim trunks on; instead of this gray crop top and ripped up shorts covering my neon pink and blue bikini.

Looking away from his clothes and into chocolate brown eyes, that are slightly covered by his black curly hair. Having to force myself to calm down. I go to open my mouth to answer his question, but not even a sound had a chance to come out, when I got cut off by my mother. "I don't understand why call her Andy. For two reasons: One) her name is Anastasia, so there is no way for you to get Andy from that. Two) she's not a boy. And you calling her Andy, is not helping her with her little 'I'm transgender' phase." My mother's annoyingly high pitch words send a blow to my heart. Before tears cloud my eyes, I clear my throat removing the lump that formed. I glance at my mother in the passenger seat, directly in front of me.

"You shouldn't encourage her, Jamie." She spits out. I roll my eyes at her blind ignorance and stubbornness to not let me be me. 

Her bleach blonde, wavey hair is flying every which way from wind blowing through the window. Even though I can't see her face, I can tell she is doing her make-up by the way her arms are moving.

I glance over to Jamie, leaning against the door. Sadness fills his eyes. He looks down at his white IPhone 5 and taps it, telling me I need to check my phone. I pick up my phone from my lap. When my phone is unlocked I read what his text message.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you Andy in front of your mom. Habit I guess."
"It's fine. I prefer if you would call me Andy instead of Anastasia. Though I wish she would just accept that this isn't a phase, and would stop forcing me to wear girly tight and mostly very short clothing. I'm so uncomfortable. But if she found out that I bought a few chest binders, I'm screwed." I text him back. It takes him less than a minute to answer back. "So you don't care that I call you Andy in front of your mom? I thought you did. And she still doesn't know you bought them?" I look over at him, he stares back with confusion written all over his face. I look back at my phone and text back, "No, I don't. I never cared. Although I hate that she butts in and says stuff that are rude. And no, she doesn't. I don't know how." Laying my phone on my lap, I look back at him.

"Anyway, back to my question. When was the last time you, my mom, and I went to the beach?" He re-asks, trying to play it off that he isn't annoyed with my mother now. "Ummm...I was six and you were nine. I think." I answer. "Isn't that right, Aunt Bekka?" I look across from me to the driver seat. Where my aunt, in a white summer dress with her prefect golden brown, wavy hair is in a ponytail, was driving. She slightly turns her head, letting me know she heard me. "Yeah. We went for your birthday. Remember?" I think back to that day. "Oh yeah. Andy and I played football and beach volleyball that day." I hear my mother mumble Anastasia when Jamie called me Andy. But never the less Jamie's face lights up at the memory. "Yeah, and you taught me how to body surf." Jamie, Aunt Bekka, and I laugh. "Right. Man, you sucked at it. You couldn't understand what I was doing. When you finally understood it, you epically failed the first hundred times." Jamie laughs as he teases me for my failure. "I was six. You can't hold that against me. And sides now I can kick your ass at surfing." I challenged.
"Ana, language." My mother warns.