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By Root 111 0

your caresses over my clothes, or even the little turtle. It was the injured bird…do you remember? One night, when the moon was shining on the snow, lighting it up like a streetlamp, you found a bird by the side of the path. His wing was broken and he would have died of cold, or else been eaten by another animal. You picked him up. He thrashed around a bit in your hands and you started talking to him, very softly. You said to him, “You have nothing to fear from me. I have big hands, but they’re warm and they won’t hurt you. You were afraid, you were getting numb from the cold, but that’s over, I found you, I won’t leave you alone. I can’t fix your wing here, so I’m going to take you with me. But you’ll see, everything will be okay. And you’ll be able to fly again, soon.” And with your free hand you stroked his little head very gently, and he relaxed, like he had understood. And that’s why I said yes to you. Because you were so gentle with the bird. I knew that you’d be the same with me. That night, we didn’t kiss or hold each other, because there was the bird. But that night, I made my decision.

From then on, we saw each other every night. We waited for the bus to leave before taking each other’s hand. In the town, people are always watching. But on the path leading to the valley, there’s never anyone. So you would come close to me and I would come close to you, and I had waited all day for that moment and you had, too. I would take off the glove on my left hand, and you’d take off the glove on your right hand, and our hands would touch; they were hot. After that, we’d kiss—quickly, or for a long time, it depended on the weather. It was cold outside, and warm between us. Between kisses, you wouldn’t speak much. The day after the injured bird, or maybe the day after that, I asked you, “Have you ever made love with a girl?” You answered yes, turning your eyes away, and I thought I saw something a little sad, a memory that wasn’t very happy. “It wasn’t good?”

“The first time, it can be a disaster.” Your voice was just a murmur, and a little river started flowing in my stomach, between my thighs. I shivered. I thought that you would be the first for me, and I was happy about that, and I thought with you it wouldn’t be a disaster and you would never have sad eyes when you thought about it. At night, under my covers, I’d see your eyes in mine, and you were saying, “Yes.” But the question I was asking you wasn’t, “Have you ever made love with a girl?” The question I was asking you was, “Do you want to make love with me?”

I knew that I wanted to, and I knew that you did, too. It made me dizzy to realize that I could make my own decision. It just took me some time, that’s all! Before going to bed, I’d lock myself in the bathroom. I’d let the warm water run over my skin and imagine it was your hands on my body. I’d write your name on the bathroom tiles, in the steam: Matt, Matt, Matt. Then I’d wipe it so it wouldn’t leave a trace. I dreamed about making love with you, and I knew that dream would come true soon.

The days went by, not very quickly. You told me, “I wish it was summer.” And even though I love winter so much, I whispered, “Me, too.” Because then we wouldn’t have to keep guessing everything about each other, guessing about your skin and my skin under our layers of clothes. One night in November, you had an idea. “We can go to the hunters’ cabin. We can make a fire. We’ll be warm.”

“I don’t like that place, the hunters come there with the animals they’ve killed, they bleed them, they drink and shout…”

“I know, but we can make a fire there.”

I said yes to the hunters’ cabin because it was night and no one would be there. We didn’t have much time. Making a fire would take too long. And what if a hunter saw the smoke coming out of the chimney? We went inside the cabin; I took off my jacket and you took off yours. You lifted up your sweater, then took my hands and slid them under. I had cold hands, or else your stomach was burning. My hands warmed up very quickly, and then you did the same thing with me, and that was