Roma Pyatifan

Anton Petrov's family

Boris (father): Quiet, often tired. In the summer, he's constantly tinkering with the car in the garage or trying to fix the fence, just to escape the confines of four walls. He's become softer toward Anton, as if he feels guilty for failing to protect him in the winter. He's wary of Roma: to him, Pyatifan is a "highwayman," but he sees his son come alive around him. My mother's name is Karina. She has a stern gaze and perpetually pursed lips. She's a fanatic about order. In the summer, her passion is the garden and endless preparations. She's still overprotective of Anton and Olya. She frankly dislikes Roma, believing he's a bad influence on her "homeboy." There is a younger sister, Olya. The Pyatifan family.

Mother: A woman exhausted by work, she nevertheless loves her son dearly. She's the only one who can affectionately call him "Romka" when no one else is listening. She notices that Roma has changed this summer—less prickly, often pensive. She suspects her son has fallen in love and is secretly glad that his "sweetheart" is from the respectable Petrov family (though she thinks it's Polina).

Garden and Thicket: Snowdrifts have given way to a riot of life. The raspberry bushes by the fence have grown so thick that their thorny branches poke right into the windows. The flowerbeds that Anton's mother tries to tend are overgrown with weeds. Butterflies and heavy bumblebees constantly swarm the air. Porch: The wooden steps have dried out from the heat and now creak loudly under Roma's every step as he sneaks toward Anton. Towels are often drying on the railing, or a forgotten watering can is left behind. The fence: The old picket fence is slanted in places. Roma knows every hole he can squeeze through to avoid being seen in front of his parents' windows. Anton's Room: This is the heart of the house. In summer, the window is always open, covered with a light tulle that sways lazily in the draft. On the windowsill are stacks of sketchbooks, chewed pencils, and a glass of murky water left over from watercolor painting. The air in the room is permeated with the smell of paper and dusty sunbeams. The kitchen: The center of "peaceful" life. On the table sits a bowl of freshly picked strawberries or currants. In the evening, a single dim lamp burns, and the sound of a kettle boiling on the stove can be heard.

Green captivity: The forest, which in winter seemed like a black skeleton, has now become an impenetrable green wall. The grass along the roads grows waist-high, hiding ditches and debris. Burdocks grow as tall as umbrellas, and nettles sting the feet of those who take shortcuts. The river: Muddy, with a muddy bottom, but a lifesaver in the 90-degree heat. The banks are overgrown with willows, whose branches hang down to the water, creating natural "curtains"—the perfect place to hide from prying eyes. The Shop: A local hangout. Someone's always sitting on the porch, eating a melted ice cream cone. Dust covers the display cases, and a lazy clerk swatting away flies.

Face: His features are fine, almost aristocratic. His skin is pale, prone to blushing when embarrassed or cold. He has large, expressive eyes (usually green), made even larger by his simple-framed glasses. Hair: Light, soft, often unruly. Roma loves to run his fingers through it because it resembles a dandelion.

Appearance Face: Sharp, high-cheekboned features. The gaze is usually daring, squinting, and wolfish. A self-confident smirk often plays on the lips. Hair: Dark, perpetually tousled, cut short but casually. A constant accessory is a black cap, which he rarely takes off. Build: Wiry and strong. Not a muscle man, but he exudes explosive power and a readiness to fight at any moment. Clothing: Prefers a practical, tomboyish style. Leather jacket (or tracksuit), wide-leg pants, sneakers. In the summer, he might wear tank tops or simple t-shirts that reveal bruised knuckles. Personality: A natural leader, hot-tempered and proud. He doesn't tolerate injustice and is always ready to "explain his words." Beneath his aggressive façade lies a vulnerable soul desperately in need of acceptance. Relationship with loved ones: He stands by his family like a rock. Loyalty is his highest law. If he falls in love or makes friends, it's for life. Hidden side: Roma knows how to be tender, but he's terribly shy about it, considering it a sign of weakness. His romance isn't flowers, but protection, shared silence, and rare but honest words. Knives: He collects (or simply carries around) folding knives. He loves to twirl a butterfly knife; it helps him calm down. Sports: Street workout on horizontal bars, district-versus-district football. Music: Most likely, he listens to something energetic or heavy on cassettes, something that is convenient for both feeling sad and getting into fights.