Future [Andley]

One

Time is a funny thing. Is it even a thing? It's not an object; you can't hold it, you can't totally control it. It's not a living thing, either. So what exactly was it?
Well it was just that. An it. A thing. A figment of the human mind to keep track of what's happened, what's happening, and what's going to happen. It's a word to describe the moments that crawl by; a thought that makes the world go round.
Time is an excuse. An excuse for being late, for being early, for forgetting, and for remembering. It gives the world, and everything inhabiting it, structure.
Time can be given, and time can be taken. Growing a garden takes time, having a chat is giving someone else your time.
There are so many different kinds of time, too.
Free time, snack time, work time, day time and night time. The list goes on.

Time is a funny thing. Time is everywhere; time is everything. Without time, the world would simply bow to chaos.

And that's where Andy stopped his thoughts. His gaze directed on the clock hanging up in the corner of the classroom, Andy finally found his senses and blinked. His eyes were dry from staring so curiously at the round contraption, with numbers painted in dull black coloring in a perfect circle and little tick marks between each to mark the odd minutes.

His mind did this a lot. Andy would find something that peaked his interested, or posed a thoughtful question, and he'd find himself lost in a world of questions, answers, and observations. It seemed, though, that he was the only one who did it. He was the only one who could get that lost in their own head.

All of a sudden something landed by his hand. Andy shifted his head to look and saw a sloppily folded paper airplane. He furrowed his brow and unfolded it slowly.

"Damn it, I missed again." The voice hissed, coming from the boy sitting two desks back and one over to the left. Andy looked up from the paper to see a few other balls of paper and paper airplanes in vicinity to his desk. With a raised eyebrow, Andy turned his attention back to the paper in his hands. It was blank. What a waste of paper, Andy thought as he neatly put the crinkled paper in the inside pocket of his notebook. Finding the rest were blank as well, he did the same.
"Don't think I don't see you throwing things, Mr. Purdy." The teacher, who sat up front, gave Ashley, the boy throwing the paper, a warning glance over the brim of her reading glasses. "Don't you have a rough draft you should be writing out for me? It's due tomorrow, and your paper is blank. In fact, I think you threw that to Mr. Biersack. It's a kind gesture, but I'm sure he has enough paper as it is."
Andy looked over his shoulder to see Ashley Purdy's brown eyes burning into the ugly linoleum floor.
"That draft better be on my desk as soon as you walk in that door tomorrow." She sighed as the bell sounded over the speaker system.
"Yes, ma'am." Ashley rolled his eyes and pulled his backpack up, standing and slinging it over his shoulder as he merged in with the group of students shuffling their way out into the hall. Andy got up as well, pulling both straps of his backpack over his shoulders and making his way out as well.

When he found his way to his locker, he saw Ashley, who's locker happened to be inconveniently placed directly across fro his, glaring straight at him. The hallway had begun to clear out by the time Andy got his locker door open, having some trouble with the lock as usual, because it was the end of the day and, well, no one wanted to stick around longer than they had to.

Ashley for some reason stuck around, and Andy wasn't too keen on staying to find out why.

"You got a problem?" Ashley was suddenly behind him, causing Andy to jump back against the cold metal lockers.
Andy quickly looked down, staring at their shoes.
Huh.

Andy's old converse, with sharpie doodles and stains, contrasted greatly from Ashley's lace-up, black boots, with a chain adorning the side of each individual boot.
"Seriously. You can stare at a clock for 20 minutes without blinking for even a millisecond, but you can't make eye contact?" Ashley snorted, obviously taunting in an attempt to get a rise out of Andy. Andy balled his fists in his sweatshirt pockets.
"Just move out of my way, please. I'd like to go home."
"No." Ashley stepped even closer. "Not until you look me in the eyes."
Why did Ashley care so much?
"C'mon, weirdo. It's not that hard. Just a few seconds, that's all." Ashley cooed. He obviously just wanted to humiliate Andy, but what else was new?
"Weirdo? Your name-calling game is getting weak." Andy looked down the hall, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek.
"So? You're weak. It fits." Ashley snorted and suddenly grabbed his chin forcefully. "C'mon. Do it. Are you really that much of a weak-ass punk?"
Andy stood his ground. "Let go of me."
"No." Ashley replied and jerked Andy's head in his direction, finally catching him by surprise and locking eyes.

There was a bit of silence, where Andy just stood there, dumbfounded and frozen in place.
He hated making eye contact.
He couldn't make eye contact. Well, physically he could, but he couldn't handle what followed.

Every time he met eyes with someone else, he saw... things. He saw things he couldn't explain, and at first he didn't think much of it until those things began to happen minutes, sometimes days, or weeks after he saw them. He couldn't control how intense they were; he couldn't control how it happened. All he could do was avoid eye contact. Because, frankly, it was terrifying. He couldn't tell anybody. No one would understand; Andy didn't even understand.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ashley raised an eyebrow, seeing the glassy eyes spark with discomfort and distress.
Andy shook his head quickly and broke the eye contact as soon as he could, turning his head away. "Go. Please."
"Whatever." Ashley muttered. "You're fucking weird, dude."

Andy rushed into the empty restroom as Ashley walked off, throwing his backpack down and splashing water in his face. He didn't hold long enough to see everything, but he saw Ashley, and he saw himself, in an empty classroom for whatever reason, and then they were in a hospital. Ashley in the chair, Andy in the bed.

He didn't know why, and he didn't know how, and he didn't want to know anything else about it except how to avoid whatever the hell it was.

Andy was only 17. He didn't know what was going on, but so far he had had the worst possibly year of his life... When he turned 17, that's when the visions had begun to start. He couldn't figure out why, though. Or how. Or when they'd stop. Or what good they'd do if the shit happened anyways. Was it just to scare Andy? Because it was working.
But... why did it have to be him?
He was 'unique' enough already. In ways only he and his mom and dad knew... In ways that took Andy 3 years to accept.

Neither Andy nor his parents knew until he was in late middle school, the oh-so joyous period of life where puberty was the thing, and girls were starting to become the only thing that seemed to matter.
Andy never dealt with that, personally. He'd always thought girls were pretty, sure, but boys were always Andy's thing.
But that was around the time Andy had become violently ill. Vomiting, horrendous body aches, and almost immobilizing stomach cramps. It was when they discovered that Andy was truly something else... Something different. After many scans and X-rays, they were told Andy was what was scientifically deemed a 'hermaphrodite.' Completely physically male, which is why it was never the least bit suspected, but what was inside was a different story. Somehow they'd found both male and female reproductive organs worked together inside of him.

His mom and dad didn't seem to mind. They were shocked, but who wouldn't be? But that seemed to be that for them, although once Andy got to his junior year of high school they began to be more persistent on 'safe sex.' Andy didn't blame them, but honestly, who would even want to fuck him?
Andy, on the other hand, in light of the news he had been given, felt like he was going to puke again. He didn't quite understand at the time what it meant, but he heard 'female' and knew that something inside of him wasn't right.
It certainly didn't do much good for his anxiety or his insecurities in the coming years as he began to fully understand what his 'condition' meant.

And now, he was here. He wasn't right mentally. He wasn't right physically. He wasn't right emotionally. It was almost as if Andy were only alive to be told he didn't fit in anywhere.

Andy pushed himself off of the bathroom sink counter finally, after the roller coaster of thoughts and emotions his brain had just pulled him through, and grabbed his back pack again. It was time to go home. 

A/N: I stress myself out over the amount of stories I have unfinished, and yet I start new ones. ffs @ me lmao. Anyways yeah yikes sorry this was a lot to take in. If you couldn't tell by the last long-winded section, there will be eventual m-preg, or maybe just reference to it. Idk yet it depends on how far this thing gets. Comment your thoughts please bc I'm a bit iffy on this