had at Viola's party, but this time Mattia's fingers spontaneously closed around hers.
They left the crowd of students. Alice walked quickly, as if she were escaping from someone. They slipped into the deserted corridor on the second floor. The doors leading to the empty classrooms conveyed a sense of abandonment.
They went into the girls' bathroom. Mattia hesitated. He was about to say I'm not supposed to be here, but then he let her drag him in. When Alice took him inside a cubicle and locked the door they were so close that his legs started trembling. The space not taken up by the old-style hole-in-the-ground toilet was nothing more than a thin strip of tiles and there was barely room for their four feet. There were pieces of toilet paper scattered on the ground half-stuck to the floor.
Now she's going to kiss me, he thought. And all you have to do is kiss her back. It'll be easy; everyone knows how.
Alice unzipped her shiny jacket and started to undress, just as she had at Viola's house. She untucked her T-shirt and lowered the same pair of jeans halfway down her bottom. She didn't look at Mattia; it was as if she were there on her own.
In place of Saturday evening's white gauze she had a flower tattooed on her skin. Mattia was about to say something, but then fell silent and looked away. Something stirred between his legs and he tried to distract himself. He read some of the graffiti on the wall, without grasping its meaning. He noticed how none of the writing was parallel to the line of tiles. Almost all of it was at the same angle to the edge of the floor and Mattia worked out that it was somewhere between 30 and 45 degrees.
"Take this," said Alice.
She handed him a piece of glass, reflective on one side and black on the other, and as sharp as a dagger. Mattia didn't understand. She lifted his chin, just as she had imagined doing the first time they had met.
"You've got to get rid of it. I can't do it on my own," she said to him.
Mattia looked at the glass shard and then at Alice's right hand, which pointed at the tattoo on her belly.
She anticipated his protest.
"I know you know how to do it," she said. "I never want to see it again. Please, do it for me."
Mattia rolled the shard in his hand and a shiver ran down his arm.
"But--" he said.
"Do it for me," Alice interrupted him, putting a hand to his lips to shut him up and then removing it immediately.
Do it for me, thought Mattia. Those four words stuck in his ear and made him kneel in front of Alice.
His heels touched the wall behind him. He didn't know how to position himself. Uncertain, he touched the skin next to the tattoo, to stretch it better. His face had never been so close to a girl's body. The natural thing to do seemed to be to breathe in deeply, to discover its smell.
He brought the shard close to her flesh. His hand was steady as he made a little cut the size of a fingertip. Alice trembled and let out a cry.
Mattia recoiled and hid the piece of glass behind his back, as if to deny that it had been him.
"I can't do it," he said.
He looked up. Alice wept silently. Her eyes were closed, clenched in an expression of pain.
"But I don't want to see it anymore," she sobbed.
It was clear to him that she had lost her nerve, and he felt relieved. He stood up and wondered if it would be better to leave.
Alice wiped away the drop of blood trickling down her belly. She buttoned up her jeans, while Mattia tried to think of something reassuring to say.
"You'll get used to it. In the end you won't even notice it anymore," he said.
"How is that possible? It will always be there, right before my eyes."
"Exactly," said Mattia. "Which is precisely why you won't see it anymore."
THE OTHER ROOM
1995
20
M attia was right: the days had slipped over her skin like a solvent, one after the other, each removing a very thin layer of pigment from her tattoo, and from both their memories. The outlines, like the circumstances, were still there, black and
They left the crowd of students. Alice walked quickly, as if she were escaping from someone. They slipped into the deserted corridor on the second floor. The doors leading to the empty classrooms conveyed a sense of abandonment.
They went into the girls' bathroom. Mattia hesitated. He was about to say I'm not supposed to be here, but then he let her drag him in. When Alice took him inside a cubicle and locked the door they were so close that his legs started trembling. The space not taken up by the old-style hole-in-the-ground toilet was nothing more than a thin strip of tiles and there was barely room for their four feet. There were pieces of toilet paper scattered on the ground half-stuck to the floor.
Now she's going to kiss me, he thought. And all you have to do is kiss her back. It'll be easy; everyone knows how.
Alice unzipped her shiny jacket and started to undress, just as she had at Viola's house. She untucked her T-shirt and lowered the same pair of jeans halfway down her bottom. She didn't look at Mattia; it was as if she were there on her own.
In place of Saturday evening's white gauze she had a flower tattooed on her skin. Mattia was about to say something, but then fell silent and looked away. Something stirred between his legs and he tried to distract himself. He read some of the graffiti on the wall, without grasping its meaning. He noticed how none of the writing was parallel to the line of tiles. Almost all of it was at the same angle to the edge of the floor and Mattia worked out that it was somewhere between 30 and 45 degrees.
"Take this," said Alice.
She handed him a piece of glass, reflective on one side and black on the other, and as sharp as a dagger. Mattia didn't understand. She lifted his chin, just as she had imagined doing the first time they had met.
"You've got to get rid of it. I can't do it on my own," she said to him.
Mattia looked at the glass shard and then at Alice's right hand, which pointed at the tattoo on her belly.
She anticipated his protest.
"I know you know how to do it," she said. "I never want to see it again. Please, do it for me."
Mattia rolled the shard in his hand and a shiver ran down his arm.
"But--" he said.
"Do it for me," Alice interrupted him, putting a hand to his lips to shut him up and then removing it immediately.
Do it for me, thought Mattia. Those four words stuck in his ear and made him kneel in front of Alice.
His heels touched the wall behind him. He didn't know how to position himself. Uncertain, he touched the skin next to the tattoo, to stretch it better. His face had never been so close to a girl's body. The natural thing to do seemed to be to breathe in deeply, to discover its smell.
He brought the shard close to her flesh. His hand was steady as he made a little cut the size of a fingertip. Alice trembled and let out a cry.
Mattia recoiled and hid the piece of glass behind his back, as if to deny that it had been him.
"I can't do it," he said.
He looked up. Alice wept silently. Her eyes were closed, clenched in an expression of pain.
"But I don't want to see it anymore," she sobbed.
It was clear to him that she had lost her nerve, and he felt relieved. He stood up and wondered if it would be better to leave.
Alice wiped away the drop of blood trickling down her belly. She buttoned up her jeans, while Mattia tried to think of something reassuring to say.
"You'll get used to it. In the end you won't even notice it anymore," he said.
"How is that possible? It will always be there, right before my eyes."
"Exactly," said Mattia. "Which is precisely why you won't see it anymore."
THE OTHER ROOM
1995
20
M attia was right: the days had slipped over her skin like a solvent, one after the other, each removing a very thin layer of pigment from her tattoo, and from both their memories. The outlines, like the circumstances, were still there, black and
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