LUCE’S PARENTS LIVED in the nearest village. We walked there by cutting through the forest. The path was quiet and shaded. The pine needles were soft and didn’t burn my feet. I could still smell the chlorine. I kept my arms away from my body to let the air flow under my armpits. I felt good. I almost forgot about Oscar for a little while. I walked next to Luce and thought about Yann, who had touched her shoulders and who wasn’t there anymore. I thought about Oscar, whom she’d gone to find at his bungalow and who wasn’t there, either. Oscar, whom she’d kissed the night before. I was jealous. So I thought about Oscar again. But you can’t be jealous of Oscar anymore, I told myself, and I stopped thinking about him. I looked at Luce and thought she was pretty. I thought about Oscar, who had probably already walked this path. How could I not think about him? Luce’s sarong brushed my hand. The touch went up my arm, all the way to my heart. It was a different kind of heat from the sun. I preferred this one. I wanted to be hot like that.

A couple with their little boy passed us coming the other way. The little boy threatened us with a water pistol. He shot me in the head. Luce laughed. The mother grabbed him and gave him a spanking. He cried. The father looked apologetic and they walked away. Luce started laughing again and I laughed, too. There were beads of water on my face; I was like a wet dog. She reached out a hand to wipe the water away. It ended up as a caress—deliberately, I thought. I let her do it. I wanted to touch her, too, but I didn’t know how to go about it. Everything in me started in the gut but withered as it moved toward the outside, falling to pieces by the time it reached my fingertips, which didn’t know how to caress. All the same, I lifted my hand. Something in this forest was pushing me. We were far from the campsite and the music. All it took was one sideways step. I caressed her face. I followed its contours, my hand trembling, and that tremble became the caress itself, descending over her eyes, along her nose, her cheeks, her mouth. Luce didn’t move. Her eyes were closed. Everything I’d never said, I could finally say, without a sound. I wanted to tell her so much. This wasn’t enough. I leaned down to take her in my arms, but she stopped me with a smile and we set off again.

When we reached her street, Luce asked me to guess which house was hers. I saw one with green shutters and pointed at it—I guessed right. Luce smiled. She took my hand and I thought that she was going to lead me to her bedroom. But she stood in front of the open garage door. “Shit, they’re home.” She let go of my hand.

Her father appeared. “Hello.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Well, this is it!” Luce said, giving me a friendly pat on the back. “This is where I live!”

“It’s very nice.”

The father looked at me like I was a stain, then he went inside. Luce had changed. She was embarrassed. She was actually blushing. It made me love her even more. I wanted to get to know her father, to talk to him and make him like me.

“Sorry, it’s better if you don’t come in. I’ll be here for a couple of hours. I can meet you at my tent after if you want.”

“Okay.”

I hesitated to touch her as I said goodbye. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, then she left and I was alone. Oscar returned, with his smell and his dead eyes.