I Love You Because

October 21st

        Forget that I only had a day to save my best friend's life.

        Forget that I was going to be in huge trouble when I got home.

        Forget that I was currently alone on an entirely different continent.

        I shook my head. I couldn't afford to lose myself in daydreams. Not when I had serious business to attend to. Luckily, I had done my research at home and found a small, relatively cheap hotel that I could stay in for the night. The next morning, I had to make a thirty minute or so trip to Nina's house, I would convince her not to kill herself, and then this would all be over. Easy as that.

        Of course, in the back of my mind, my realistic side was telling me that that was not how everything would go. And even if I did convince Nina not to follow through, it didn't actually eliminate the thing that made her want to commit suicide in the first place. I knew Nina, and I knew that she isn't one to "tell on people," even if said person is endangering others. She's never liked to stir up drama or conflict.

        In that moment, I decided that if-- no, when-- I managed to save her, I was going to go to the American authorities to make sure this guy was handled and punished the way he should be. After all, what kind of heinous person would victimize such a sweet person as Nina Flores?

        She was the epitome of perfection. Polite, carefree, witty, intelligent, friendly, empathetic.

        This girl could not die.

        I felt the train stop and I directed my focus back onto what was happening. This was my stop, where an Uber driver would be waiting for me. I was starting to be extremely grateful that I had done my research back home. I didn't like not knowing what to expect.

        I got off onto the platform and made my way up several escalators until I was finally outside. As it did when I had left the airport, it struck me just how warm it was here. It felt weird, for it to be October with no bitter weather.

        I found my Uber and climbed inside, the woman driving not saying a word or even glancing in my direction. She was so short, that her forehead barely reached the windshield. I wondered if she could even see the road. I hoped so, or this trip would be abruptly cut short.

        She seemed content with silence, so I made no attempt to break it as it settled over the two of us like a wet wool blanket. Which, for the record, was exactly what her car smelled like.

        It took about twenty minutes for us to get to the hotel, and by that time, the sun was setting and there was a slight evening chill in the air.

        I walked through the dingy doors of the hotel and was greeted by a nice enough looking man, seemingly in his twenties or thirties.

        "Hello, welcome, how can I help you," he said kindly but monotonously, as if he had been trained to say that exact phrase. Which he probably had.

        "Can I please get a room for one night?" I asked, not exactly sure what the protocol for checking into hotels was, having never done it on my own.

        The man, Jeff, according to the golden nametag that gleamed on his chest, smiled softly. "That would be forty dollars."

        I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly, hating to seem ignorant, but needing answers. "And you take cash?"

        "Yes we do," Jeff said, his smile not wavering. I passed him the money and he reached under the counter and pulled out a plastic key, assumingly for my room. "You're room is 457 on the second floor. Elevator's around the corner on the left," he instructed, pointing to where I needed to go.

        I matched his smile and thanked him before adjusting my backpack and making my way in the direction he had shown me. The elevator was silent, which was good, since the music that usually played never ceased to annoy me. It did, however, let out a soft ding when it stopped at the second floor, and I stepped out to see room 466.

        I made my way down the hall with decreasing numbers until I stopped in front of a door with chipping paint around the edges, just like all of the others. I inserted my key card into the slot and let the door swing open to reveal the scent of wood and old people.

        Home sweet home.

        It was only one decently sized room, with a smaller area to the side, which I assumed was the bathroom. The double bed in the middle of the room had a white comforter and several pillows stacked precariously at the head, which was a bit pointless, as I didn't usually sleep with a pillow anyway.

        Across from the bed was a desk with a small television set sitting on top. Later, when I tried to turn it on, it emitted a high-pitched whining sound and the blue simply turned dark blue until I managed to turn it off.

        But, hey, it was a nice enough place, all things considered. And it was close to where Nina lived.

        I showered in freezing water, since something was stopping the knob from turning all the way to the "hot" setting. I slipped on my pajamas, which were just guys' boxers and a tank top, and climbed into the bed, which had surprisingly soft sheets.

        Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I remembered that I hadn't texted Nina yet. It was only ten o'clock, so it wasn't that late, luckily. I reached down beside the bed where I had dropped my worn jeans and pulled my phone out of the back pocket, having been too lazy to take it out earlier.

Hey, Nina.

        The dots indicating her response appeared immediately, but her actual message took a while to send, as if she was thinking hard about what to say.

Hey, Astrid. I actually had something to ask you. Did you get a letter recently?

        I blinked at the message slowly. Of course, I hadn't told her or made any indication that I knew what she was planning. And now she was getting suspicious. I decided to stall for time.

No, why? Did you send one?

I was just wondering.

        The vagueness of her response and how she didn't actually say if she had sent a letter would have been over my head had I been telling the truth about not getting it, but since I did, I took notice.

        Maybe if Nina thought that I never got her letter, she wouldn't actually commit suicide? After all, she had only sent it so I didn't have to hear from anyone but her.

        No. I couldn't afford to hope for that and get careless. I had to assume she was going to do it, the next day, just as she had promised. I couldn't let myself believe that she wouldn't do it.

I should probably sleep, it's 4:00 am here, but I couldn't sleep.

        It was indeed four o'clock in the morning in France, even if I wasn't there in that moment. But Nina didn't need to know that we were in the same time zone. Yet.

Okay, goodnight! Also, if you do get a letter... just forget about it.

        I flinched at that, my suspicions that she wasn't going to wait being confirmed. I forced myself to type out a reply.

Sure.

        She responded fairly quickly.

If you text again, I'll ignore you and listen to music until you go to sleep. Sleep is important!

        I smiled to myself, knowing exactly what kind of music she would be listening to. She was, after all, constantly listening to her favorite bands, like Twenty One Pilots, Panic! at the Disco, and Imagine Dragons. They're a few of the things we bonded over originally, actually.

I love you because you have incredible taste in music, and can memorize a song's lyrics after hearing it once.

        I didn't even wait for a reply, because I knew that she would claim it wasn't all that impressive. Nina always had been very modest. So I turned off my phone and dropped it onto the floor before rolling onto my back, closing my eyes, and falling into a dreamless sleep.