The crackling winds shook the walls of the house, waking Chelsea up. Her muscles ached as she lifted legs up towards her chest. The room was dark, except for the light coming from the muted television. She sat up in her bed, her blonde hair falling past her shoulders. The tree branches rattled against the window. Her cat slept on the blanket at the end of her bed. Swinging her legs to the side of the bed, her bare skin felt the cold air. Her hands slid up and down her tan legs, trying to warm herself up. The t-shirt that she was wearing only fell down to the top of her thigh. Walking over to her dresser, she looked at her silver and blue phone. She flipped it open and turned it on. The bright light caused her to squint as she looked at the time. 4:26. No new messages. She closed it and walked back over to her bed, climbing in. Her phone was still in her hand. She looked at it, and then pressed it to her lips. Her eyes closed at the thought of calling him. Every night for the past seven months, she woke up at the same exact time. Every night, she would call him, and he wouldn't answer. Her mind flashed back to the last memory she had with him. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and he smelled like Calvin Klein. His hugs were so comfortable, but not in an airport. He was leaving. His whole family was already on their way to board the plane. As soon as he began to let go, she could feel her tears start to come up. One fell on his shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice.
"You'll always be my best friend." He whispered in her ear as his hands slid away from her body. Something in her believed him. She gave him a half-hearted smile as he turned away from her. He looked over his shoulder, but her back was to him. Her tears were coming more frequently.
Opening her eyes, she looked at her phone again. They talked almost every night for a month. He stopped calling, and every time she would call him, he wouldn't answer. He wouldn't reply to her texts. She knew he didn't change his number, because she would hear his voice in the voicemail. His words still rang in her head. She knew he meant it when he told her that she would always be his best friend.
She was still a normal girl. Everyone thought she was happy for him. She still danced every night at her favorite dance studio. She still loved lemonade favored bubblegum. The only thing that she was missing in her life was her best friend, and it hurt her so badly.
Part of her wanted to stop calling him every night. The other part wanted to, in hopes of him answering. He was probably sleeping, and she knows how he gets when he's rudely awakened. He has to see the "missed call" every day; he just probably never had time to call her back. No matter how busy he is, he has to have some down time.
Chelsea told herself to calm down and to stop analyzing things too much. Her heart began to race as she opened her phone, the bright light shining on her face again. The buttons that she dialed were so worn down from pressing them every night. She bit her lip as she raised the phone to her ear. There were four rings before the voicemail came on. She snapped her phone shut and held her palms against her forehead. Feeling tears forming, she told herself to hold it in. She got up and placed her phone back on her dresser. Looking in the mirror, she stared at the t-shirt. It was the t-shirt he gave her after they went swimming in their pool. She didn't have any clean clothes, so she wore his. He told her she could keep it. It was gray and old, but she treasured it.
She went back to her bed and climbed in. She lay on her side, facing the wall. Pulling the blankets up over her shoulder, she exhaled deeply.
"I miss you, Joe." With that, she fell back asleep. Her nightly ritual was done.