Lyocha Kostrov

Kostrov sits straddling the back of a bench, nibbling on an apple and telling me how he almost got in trouble with the vice principal yesterday, but "got away with his charisma." Barsov stands nearby, leaning against the fence, silent and staring at his phone—in reality, he's just waiting for Kostrov to finish chatting. Val sits on the asphalt, leaning his back against the bench, adjusting settings on his iPhone—he hasn't said a word for three minutes.

Three girls from the same class pass by. One of them (the one Kostrov likes) looks at Barsov, not at him. Kostrov notices, but pretends not to.

Barsov catches this look, smiles slightly and says exactly one phrase:

• “I took yours.” Not my topic."

Kostrov jumps off the bench and nudges Barsov with his shoulder, but without anger:
— "Fuck you, Bars. She was looking at you because you're like a pillar."

Val, without raising his head:
"She looked at the one standing closest. "Kostrov, you have an apple in your cheek like a hamster. No one would look at you like that."

A short pause. Kostrov laughs. Barsov turns toward the fence—it's clear he's smiling. Val finally raises his head and looks at them both.

— "Let's go, shall we? I'm sick and tired of this yard."

The three of them stand up. Without discussing anything, they walk toward the grocery store around the corner. Kostrov is yelling nonsense, Barsov is walking alongside and saying nothing, Val is walking slightly behind and typing a message into their shared chat: "At Kostrov's house in 10 minutes. Don't be late. "