An Open Sky

Chapter Two ~Alexa~

                After hours of unpacking and my shelves found themselves half-filled once again, I decided to call it a night. I collapsed, exhausted, onto my bed. My eyes caught the faint flashing that was taking place outside my window. I leaned over to pause the song that was currently having its turn vibrating the house. I leaned back onto my pillow, focusing on the wind and rain that was thrashing through the trees and against our house.  It was still storming.

                I laid there for hours. I tossed and turned until my body was damp with sweat. I couldn’t sleep. This was nothing new, of course. I hadn’t had a full night of sleep since my mom died. I absent-mindedly grabbed my phone that was sitting on my nightstand and checked the time, 12:28 a.m. I set it back down and decided to try one more time to sleep. 12:47…12:58…1:32…2:18…As time passed I got more and more anxious to get out of the house, not tired. I got up and opened my window to a chilling breeze that carried in the smell of fresh rain. The rain had stopped, leaving everything soaking wet, and chills formed on my skin. I needed to get out, but I forced myself back into the protection of my covers. I reached, yet again, for my phone and I managed to knock it right onto the floor. It hit the wooden side of my bed before it went down and I flinched at the sound. It seemed so loud compared to the heavy silence around me. I reluctantly slid partially out of the warm blankets around me and reached down to my phone.

                As soon as I started punching in the number, the screen lit up. I squinted into the light and finished punching in the last few digits. I quickly hit the call button, not giving myself time to hesitate first, and held the phone up to my ear. It just kept ringing….ringing…and just when I thought it was about to transfer me to voicemail, I heard a click.

                “Hello?” A groggy voice questioned.

                “Jay?” I asked; my voice sounding way too excited considering it was almost three in the morning.

                “Alexa, hey,” he was at least still half-asleep, “what’s up?”

                “I’m ready,” I almost whispered. Anyone else who would have heard me utter the words would have thought it sounded almost seductive. I hoped that Jay wouldn’t notice the tone in my voice, or maybe I did. I didn’t know anymore.

                “You know, when I said tomorrow, I didn’t really mean…” he paused, I assumed, to look at the clock, “three in the morning.” He sounded serious, but I could tell he was smiling, “I’ll be there in ten,” he whispered. The call ended. I grinned; I would see him in ten minutes. Then it hit me. I needed to get ready; sweat pajamas were not attractive.

I flung my covers aside, some landing on the floor, and hopped out of bed. I threw on one of my nicer long-sleeved shirts and some jeans, that weren’t too skinny for my dad’s taste, but skinny enough for mine. I grabbed my brush. I made my way over to the mirror and that’s when I realized how mangled my head looked from rolling around in my bed for so long. As my ten minutes dwindled down to five, I desperately tried to brush out my hair. About twenty bobby pins later, my wavy brown hair actually looked kind of attractive for once. I looked at the time and to my surprise, my ten minutes was long up. I threw on my navy flats, shoved my phone in my pocket, and raced downstairs. I made sure to tip-toe past my dad’s room. Despite my efforts, the floor still creaked.

                I flew down the stairs, not wanting to be away from him any longer than necessary. I opened the door and, in my haste, slammed right into his chest. “Sorry!” I cried as we both went tumbling into the bushes that surrounded the house.