The following Monday, while Roxie sat in the dining hall, selling tickets for the First Dance with a girl from the junior class, she noticed Olivia leaving for the hallway with Josephine.

"Hey, Olivia! Wait up!" she called after her. "I'm sorry, I'll be right back," she told the boy about to pay for the two tickets in her hand and hurried after them.

"Hey," Olivia greeted softly in her young raspy voice when Roxie caught up with them, stepping to the side of the busy hallway with Josephine. "Please, just call me Liv," she reminded.

"Right, Liv." Roxie nodded, tugging her long bangs behind her ear. "You remember what we talked about last week, right?"

"Um, yes, but I really don't—" Olivia started to shake her head when Roxie stopped her.

"You were wrong." Olivia looked confused at her, so Roxie explained. "I spoke with Baz, you know, Whitener, and he told me Ricky and Claudia are definitely not together."

"Could we please not talk about this?" Olivia whispered hurriedly, color reddening her cheeks.

"But aren't you excited? This changes everything." Roxie beamed while Josephine curiously observed their conversation.

"It changes nothing," Olivia disagreed with a head shake, pushing her glasses up her freckled nose and throwing a cautious glance at the students passing by.

"Did you forget the part about our little makeover agreement?"

An amused smile spread across Josephine's face, finding enjoyment in watching Roxie trying to push Olivia out of her comfort zone. She tried to hide it with the back of her hand, laughter shining in her eyes.

Olivia sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Roxie, please, no—"

"And I know exactly the occasion for it." Roxie held up the two tickets in her hand with a sneaky smile, the name 'First Dance' printed across them. "You and Joey," she looked briefly at Josephine, "can come over to my house during the day of the dance, and I'll have everything ready. It'll be so much fun." The anticipation was lighting Roxie's entire face as she smiled at Olivia and Josephine, bouncing lightly on her toes.

"I can't." Olivia shook her head, feeling a little relieved.

"What? Why not?" As excited as Roxie looked the moment before, the disappointment now shone from her big dark eyes.

"My mom's been planning a party for weeks for that same night," Olivia explained, tugging a strand of her hair behind an ear.

"Well, can't you get out of it?"

Olivia shook her head. "No, I'm sorry."

"Wait, isn't that—" Josephine started, but Olivia quickly cut her off to stop her.

"I wish I could because you're being so nice with all this. But my parents are kind of strict, and, like I said, my mom's been planning this for a while."

"But, if you explain to her that this is your senior year," Roxie tried to reason. "It's supposed to be the most amazing year of our lives. This is the last chance to get the entire high school experience." She waved her arms at their surroundings, accidentally hitting a passing freshman, and quickly apologized. "This is your last chance to do all the things you want," Roxie continued, addressing Olivia. "You need to start doing them now because, in a year, it'll be too late."

"Liv." Olivia looked at Josephine when she spoke her name. "Roxie's right. This is our senior year. If we ever want things to change around here, we have to go for it now. I have to be at the dance as Student Body President. Maybe you could tell your parents you have to be there as the school's senior photographer?"

Olivia looked hesitantly back and forth between Josephine and Roxie, twirling her ring around her finger. She didn't like lying, but at the same time, she kind of wanted to go to the First Dance. She just hadn't thought of it as an actual option.

"It sounds pretty generous what Roxie has in mind, doesn't it?" Josephine continued. "Maybe, if you asked your mom really nicely, she'll let you come?"

"I don't know." Olivia looked down thoughtfully, feeling conflicted.

"Come on," Roxie coaxed, smiling sweetly as she waved the tickets back and forth.

Olivia cast an uncertain glance from Roxie to Josephine, who nodded encouragingly, and then sighed. "I'll try and ask," she agreed, making Roxie squeal with elation, hugging Olivia in excitement. "But I can't promise anything," she warned, trying to sound serious though smiling from Roxie's enthusiasm, her slender arms embracing her neck.

Olivia lived with her parents, Christina and William, in a two-story penthouse apartment, at the top of a hotel by Lexington Avenue, on the Upper East Side.

Gentle jazz played in the background as she sat with her back to the many windows that lined the dining room's outer wall, seated at the center of the large table set with breakfast. Her parents were sitting at each end, busy with either the morning paper or going over the day's to-do list.

Olivia pushed her scrambled eggs back and forth on her plate with a fork, not eating anything. She had already tried talking with her mother about going to the First Dance, knowing that if she was to have any hope of convincing either of her parents, Christina was the safest bet. But her mother had been continuously busy with the plans for Olivia's seventeenth birthday. She would wave Olivia off and tell her they could talk later. It was now Friday, the day before the First Dance, and Olivia's actual birthday, and she still hadn't gotten an answer. If she was to have any chance of going to the First Dance, she needed to bring it up then and there.

At school, Roxie had started hanging out with Olivia and Josephine after the Banks party. It was clear something had happened that night, but Olivia didn't want to seem rude and ask about it. The Amelias were, of course, spreading some version of what happened, but Olivia would never trust anything coming from those girls. They were the absolute worse gossipmongers in the entire school.

Several students had started avoiding Roxie. Either by leaving when she neared or pretending they didn't see her. Olivia knew that feeling all too well.

Roxie didn't seem too bothered, though. She simply proclaimed she didn't have the patience for petty people. If they wanted to create drama, they had to do it without her. Instead, she had been focusing on Olivia, encouraging her to come to the First Dance the entire week, talking about everything she was planning for them, warming Olivia to the idea of going more and more.

Olivia looked over at her mother. "Mom," she called for her attention, "um, tomorrow—"

"Oh, that reminds me," Christina interrupted as a thought occurred to her. She had the same raspy voice as Olivia, though hers was deeper. She rang the small silver bell standing next to her water glass, calling for their housekeeper. "Make sure all the silver platters have been polished. I don't want to come up short tomorrow," she told Jamila when she entered the dining room through the swinging door in the corner, leading from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mrs. Davenport." Jamila nodded before leaving for the kitchen again. She was one of only a few people who used Olivia's father's last name, which Olivia strictly speaking also went by, instead of the last name from her mother's side. But since the Casini name was so well-known and respected throughout New York, it felt more natural to use to most.

"I'm sorry, you were saying?" Christina turned back to Olivia.

Christina was a very pretty lady in her early forties, her dark-brown hair still in her night braid as she sat in a long light-gray dressing-gown of silk. She typically didn't get dressed until Olivia had left for school.

"Um." Olivia could feel the courage leave her as her mother looked at her expectantly. "It was just... I've been trying to talk to you about pushing my party back to Sunday, remember? Because of the—"

"Don't be ridiculous," her father cut in, lowering the New York Times, looking at Olivia over his reading glasses.

William had a square face with brown eyes and dark hair that was starting to gray. The handsome young athletic man he once was, wasn't lost as he sat dressed for work in his white button-down shirt, the jacket to his dark suit hanging on the back of a second chair.

"We have family coming over for a big dinner party that your mother has been planning for weeks. We've hired chefs and servers. Your birthday is tomorrow, so we're celebrating tomorrow."

"I know. It's just..." Olivia sighed; this was not going well. "I've gotten a new friend at school. Her name's Rose Magnussen." Olivia intentionally used Roxie's actual name, knowing it would give her parents a better first impression. "And she's arranging this sort of beauty treatment thing tomorrow, which she's invited Joey and me to. So, I was hoping you would let me go?" Olivia looked back and forth between her parents with pleading eyes. Usually, a conversation ended when her parents said no—which they did a lot—but maybe she would be lucky just this once and get their permission.

"Do we know this Rose Magnussen?" Christina asked, taking a sip of her black tea.

"No, she's new." Olivia shook her head. "She just moved here with her family. But you know her mother." Olivia recalled something Roxie had told her. "She owns that magazine you read sometimes. Estate Living."

Christina looked at William, and when he merely disappeared behind his New York Times, she told Olivia she could go. "But make sure you're home to get ready at five."

"Um..." Olivia felt a building warmth of discomfort at having to push the subject even further. It was like sitting in the harsh midday sun. She began spinning her ring around with her hands in her lap. "That's the other thing." Christina looked pending at her daughter. "The reason why she's doing this tomorrow, is so we can go to the First Dance together afterward."

William lowered his newspaper again, exchanging a look with his wife at the other end of the table. "You'll be back here at five to get ready for your guests like your mother told you," he maintained in a manner that made it clear he wanted that to be the end of their discussion.

"But," Olivia insisted. If she could only make them see things her way. "The dance is for charity, and it's a really good cause. And since I'm the school's senior photographer, I was thinking—"

"I said, no." William banged his hand flat on the table, making everything around him rattle. Olivia recoiled in her seat, shaken. The gentle jazz, which was meant to have a calming effect before leaving for a hectic day, clearly didn't work.

"Will," Christina chided—concerned with her expensive china—looking irritated at him.

William ignored it as he continued. "Do I have to tell you what goes on at teenage parties in this city?" he asked rhetorically. "I've heard and seen it all, and I will not have my daughter tricked into doing drugs or having sex in some random restroom."

"I..." Olivia gaped at him with pink cheeks, embarrassed he had alluded to her having sex.

It was the usual when she tried to get permission to do something her parents didn't agree with. She would get an earful of all the horror teenagers running amok committed. Her father was the District Attorney of Manhattan, and he had heard and seen more than enough to know what he was talking about.

"Dad, I would never," she assured. "And I wouldn't be going alone. I'd be going with Rox— Rose, and Joey," she quickly corrected herself. "And I'll make sure to stay with them the whole time." She turned to her mother. "Shouldn't it be up to me what I want to do on my birthday?" Olivia pleaded, pushing the subject further than she ordinarily dared.

"Liv, we said no," Christina spoke with a finalizing tone, looking Olivia in the eyes in a way that made her slump back in her chair, defeated. She crossed her arms over her chest, not happy with the outcome of the discussion.

"Sit up straight, or leave the table," William ordered, unfolding his newspaper before disappearing behind it again.

"Fine," Olivia huffed, pushing her chair back and dropping her napkin on the table. "I have to get to school anyway."

As she walked out of the dining room, all Olivia could feel was the irritation at still being treated like a little girl. She was not a little kid anymore. But like Roxie had told her, if she didn't show her parents that she'd grown up, they would never see her as anything other than their little girl.

Roxie was definitely starting to rub off on Olivia. Before, she would have let it go after the first 'no.' But as she headed up to her room to get her things, Olivia became determined to show her parents that she would decide what she wanted to do on her birthday, not them. And she wanted to go to the First Dance. Her parents could have the stupid dinner party for themselves.