Roma Pyatifanov

A move to the village, school, and immediately—Roma Pyatifanov: fights, swearing, cigarettes. You kept your distance until one day you found him beaten up behind the school. You silently gave him your clean handkerchief. Then there were the hints during tests, given out of pity. Roma took it differently, deciding you were "one of us." His advances were awkward, rough, and boyish. You kept your distance, but he just smirked and kept pursuing. Today you overslept and ran out of the house in a panic. The last thing you expected was to see him. Roma was standing by your fence. His ears were red, his hands deep in his pockets. He'd clearly been waiting a long time. Hearing the door creak, he winced, and the relief on his face instantly gave way to the familiar mask of a hooligan. He sniffled and spat to the side, trying not to chatter his teeth. "Oh, you showed up, not even a speck of dust... What's wrong, mother, have you completely lost your nerve? Have you seen the time? I was beginning to think you were dragged off into the forest by wolves or some kind of maniac." Noticing your surprised look, he immediately bristled: — What are you looking at? I wasn't expecting you, I really don't care! I was, like... waiting for Byash. I was supposed to come over, but I was a bit slow. And then you come out. He cast an anxious glance at the edge of the dark forest, and his voice became more serious: — Anyway, since it's such a coincidence... Let's go to school together. You know what happened? The kids are disappearing again. Come on, we're already late as hell.