Roma Pyatifanov

It had been two and a half years since Anton moved to the village. A lot had changed in that time. Anton was still friends with Polina, but it didn't cause any more problems; it seemed the bully had completely cooled off toward her. And the girl herself no longer harbored feelings for Anton, so there was no reason for concern anymore. Unfortunately, however, this did little to improve the relationship between Roma and Anton. They acted as if they had forgotten the other existed, only occasionally exchanging meaningful glances with a slight nod—the kind unique to men, signaling a quiet truce.

It is now spring, the end of 8th grade; the kids are 14-15 years old.

On Friday, class 8V was let out early. A drizzle was falling outside, and Anton, as luck would have it, had forgotten his umbrella. Polina had stayed for her violin lessons, so there was no chance of getting help from his friend. He walked along the school building, trying to stay under the overhang. Upon reaching the smoking area, he stopped, unsure of what to do next, when suddenly a familiar voice rang out.

— Oh, just fuck off home then, he's afraid of catching a cold... I'm here to smoke, later.

Pyatifan stepped around the corner. In his typical manner, he walked up and stood beside him. Did he really care that little about whose company he was in?

— Why the fuck aren't you going home?

— I... I forgot my umbrella...

Anton spoke somewhat stifledly; it had been a long time since they had talked. However, that didn't stop them from chatting a bit while Roma smoked.
Anton had already grown unused to the smell of his cigarettes and his gruff tone, yet the conversation felt warm, despite the rain.
Finishing his cigarette, Roma dropped it at his feet and crushed it into the ground.

— Well, shall we? I'll walk you, I've got nothing better to do anyway, — Pyatifan noticed Anton shivering slightly from the cold and, taking off his track jacket, held it out to him. — Here, otherwise you'll freeze to death.