Ricky had separated from Olivia when he entered the empty men's room, heading for the hand dryer while pulling his shirt out of his pants. He was undoing the small buttons when a soft knock sounded on the door, and he heard Olivia call his name. Confused, he opened the door.

Olivia had her eyes fixed on the small silver ring on her finger, not looking up while she spoke. "I can't get the door to the ladies' to open." She shook her head, realizing how stupid it made her sound that she couldn't open a door. "Um, do you think you could have a go?" She looked up at him with uncertainty.

Ricky tested the doorknob. Nothing happened. He looked the door over before trying again, pushing against it with his shoulder. The strain sent shooting pain straight through his ribs, and he stopped immediately.

"I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, looking the door over again. "It must be locked off for some reason. Just... Just use the men's." He shrugged, nodding toward the door a little farther down the hallway.

"What if someone comes in?" Olivia looked tentatively from the door and back to Ricky.

"Then they'll just have to get over it, won't they?" He headed back to the men's room, opening the door while Olivia stayed by the ladies, looking hesitant. "Come on. No one's in here," he ushered.

With a quick glance down the empty hallway, Olivia rushed to follow him inside.

Standing in front of the hand dryer, she looked down at its small round opening with a frown. "How do we do this?"

"Just stand with your side under it from there. I'll hold my shirt under from this side. If you don't mind?" Ricky felt suddenly uncertain if Olivia would get uncomfortable with him standing half-naked beside her. For a born-and-raised New Yorker, she was surprisingly timid.

Olivia nodded agreeably but then blushed at the thought of Ricky standing with a bare chest next to her. Her heart pounded just at the prospect.

She positioned herself with her wet side under the wall-mounted dryer, holding on to it for balance, and stuck out her hip. Ricky hit the big metal button with his fist, and the noisy dryer started up.

Olivia shyly followed his fingers as Ricky undid his shirt, slowly exposing his summer-tanned chest. He had a fit body, the outline of his muscles subtly distinct. Opening the shirt, she felt curious at seeing a long, thin, silver necklace hanging around his neck, holding a silver ring as a pendant. She briefly wondered what was special about it since he kept it hidden under his clothes when Ricky shrugged out of the shirt. She quickly evaded her gaze to not get caught staring at him.

Ricky held the shirt up to the warm stream, and Olivia closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne vaguely mixed with cigarette smoke, which swelled in the hot air. She could feel how it made the butterflies float around in her stomach.

When she opened her eyes, she was surprised at seeing a big purple and bluish-green bruise that filled most of Ricky's left side torso. It was dauntingly big and looked terribly painful. But it couldn't possibly be from her stumbling into him.

Not realizing what she was doing, Olivia reached out for it, losing her grip on the hand dryer and started to slip. Ricky—used to Olivia's constant stumbling at this point—instinctively reached out and grabbed her when she made a small yelp, though not without regrets because of the far too familiar rib pains. It was getting more than a little tiring.

"What the—?"

"What happened?" Olivia asked, interrupting Ricky before he could finish. She regained her balance and gripped the dryer tighter under her arm, looking at him.

Ricky frowned at Olivia. Was there something wrong with her? Did she have some kinds of mini blackouts that kept making her fall over? But then he noticed she was looking at his bruised side.

"It can't be from when I fell into you just before." Olivia shifted her gaze from the bruise to Ricky's face.

"Uh." Ricky turned his body, trying to hide the bruise from her view by holding the wet shirt higher, fighting his initial urge to put it back on to cover up. "No. Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

Olivia looked at him for a moment as he ignored her, focusing on drying his shirt. She was no stranger to bruises. Her legs were always littered with smaller and bigger bruises. Most of the time, she had no idea where they came from. But Ricky's bruise was not the kind you suddenly discovered when you took a shower and wondered when you'd acquired it. Far from it.

"Is the first rule not to talk about it?" she asked, being half-serious. Like everyone else, she had heard the rumors surrounding him.

"What?" Ricky finally looked at her, feeling at a loss of what she was talking about, unintentionally lowering his arms.

"You know." Olivia could feel her cheeks heat up at the thought of actually saying the words out loud. "The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not..."

"...talk about Fight Club," Ricky finished with her. He didn't know if he should laugh at the idea or not. "Not exactly."

"It doesn't look like nothing. It looks painful." Olivia spoke in a low voice, talking more to herself than Ricky while she reached out to touch the bruise again.

Ricky paid close attention as she moved her small fingers over it with a feather-light touch, ready to step away should it hurt. To his surprise, it felt nice.

Olivia realized what she was doing then and snapped her hand back, shocked by her action. "I'm sorry." She looked at him with big eyes, feeling horrified. "I didn't mean to touch you. I, I just..." What exactly 'she just' Olivia didn't know.

"It's okay." Ricky grinned and tried to play it cool by shrugging, hitting the button on the hand dryer again, realizing it had stopped.

They were quiet then, both a little unsure of the situation when Ricky noticed the restroom door started to open behind the shielding partition screen. Someone was coming in, and he did not need more witnesses to the bruise—or some false rumor about him fooling around with Casini in the restroom.

Cursing under his breath, Ricky grabbed Olivia's wrist and quickly dragged her with him into the nearest toilet stall, the clicking sound of her heels rebounding off the walls as he pulled her in and locked the door behind them.

"Hello?" the guy entering called out. It was Blaine, Josephine's boyfriend. "Joey?"

Ricky pressed a finger to his lips inside the stall, telling Olivia to be quiet when someone else could be heard coming into the restroom.

"Have you seen Josephine? I can't find her," Blaine questioned the new arrival.

"No. Why would she be in here?" the boy asked with a snort.

"I don't know. I'm just looking for her," Blaine sighed before he left, and the other boy locked himself inside a second toilet stall.

Ricky and Olivia were standing completely still in their stall. He was towering over her with his six-foot-one, still half-naked, and listened intensely. Only inches were between them as they waited with bated breaths.

The adrenaline was rushing through Olivia. Her heart beating so hard it felt like it would break through her ribcage. Why did he have to smell and look so good? It was making it hard to think clearly, an ache stirring in her body.

They could hear the other boy zip down and urinate directly into the toilet's water a few stalls over. Olivia almost broke into a laugh at that, but Ricky quickly put his hand over her mouth to stop her. If they got busted now, people would definitely get the wrong idea.

Olivia's gaze was dancing between Ricky's eyes as they waited, transfixed by their brilliant, almost luminous glacier-blue, her attention inadvertently being drawn to the large amber spot sitting at the bottom of the left eye. So oddly out of place, but there it was.

As Ricky looked back into her deep and warm brown eyes, all he could think about was that this was his moment to make a move. He needed something to distract his attention.

He slowly removed his hand from her lips and lowered his mouth to her ear, whispering. "What did you wish for?"

Olivia looked confused at him when he withdrew a little. "What?" she whispered back. Her mind had been in a completely different place.

"When you blew out the candles," Ricky clarified in a low voice, "What did you wish for?"

Olivia shook her head and looked down at the floor, twirling her clover ring around. "It's embarrassing."

Ricky tenderly tipped her head up with a finger under her chin to make her look at him. "You can tell me," he assured, still whispering and smiling charmingly at her, making a slim scar on the peak of his left cheekbone stand out as he sought to persuade her.

Olivia tried to look down, but he was still holding her chin. "It's embarrassing," she murmured again, wanting him to drop the subject.

Ricky frowned and released her chin. It was just a silly birthday wish. It wasn't like what you wished for actually came true. "Please?"

Olivia looked up at him but quickly evaded his gaze, wiggling nervously on her heels, realizing he wasn't going to let it go that easily. "Well, um," she whispered. "When I blew out the candles..." she looked up at him, and he nodded with a curious smile, "I kind of..." she looked away, continuing to rotate the ring on her finger, "I wished that... I wished I would get a kiss... from you." Olivia felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her and hid her face in her hands, turning a deep red that crept down her chest.

Ricky's dark eyebrows rose in surprise, completely taken aback and forgetting to whisper. "Really?" This did not help move his focus. Here he was, trying not to kiss her, and she basically asked him to.

"Please, just forget it." Olivia shook her head at her own ridiculousness, daring to peek up at him.

Ricky held her gaze for a second before glancing down at her soft-looking lips, wetting his own on reflex. He raised his eyes back to hers, only to realize she had watched his tongue flicker across his plump bottom lip. He could see her breathing harder—still pink from the blush—as her chest rose and fell in rapid movements, pressing her round breast against the dress' neckline.

Why did this feel so intense when he had kissed plenty of girls before? Heck, he'd slept with more than a couple too.

Throwing caution to the wind, Ricky smiled a little as he leaned down and whispered, "Consider me your genie then," and pressed his lips softly against hers.

Olivia stood frozen with her eyes closed, her face burning. Her emotions were racing as adrenaline coursed through her body. Her father had told her not to go to the First Dance because he didn't want her to end up having sex in the restroom, and now here she was.

Maybe it was wrong, but it felt amazing.

She could still taste the breath mint from his lips when he pulled back.

Ricky stood with his head tilted, hovering over Olivia's lips with his, checking if she wanted him to stop. None of them had realized they were alone in the restroom again.

Olivia made a small movement toward his mouth with hers, so he kissed her again with satisfaction. This time firmer. When she pressed her lips back against his, his eyes fell close, enjoying the intensified feel of her soft mouth.

Lifting a hand to the side of her neck, Ricky let his fingers brush over Olivia's warm skin, weaving them into her silky brown hair at the base of her neck, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. He pressed the hand holding his shirt against the wall for stability, moving his lips with hers and deepened the kiss as he shifted his head, all thoughts disappearing.

Olivia was quick to follow his lead. Their kiss was sweet but at the same time urgent. He lightly swept his tongue out, and Olivia followed, answering his call for more, and moaned quietly.

Ricky lost himself at the sound. Dropping his shirt, he grabbed the sides of Olivia's face in both hands, brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones, and pressed her small body against the partition wall with his. He could feel his body stir from the kiss, her tongue. The feel of her shape pressed against him. He groaned into her mouth, breathing heavily through his nose.

Olivia whimpered softly, placing a hand on his hip and bicep for balance as she rose to her toes, the warmth of his naked skin burning under her fingers. Ricky stepped closer, pushing his hips into hers, making the partition wall rattle from the movement, sliding a hand down to her chest and cupping her breast.

Olivia froze, pushing Ricky back, and held a protective hand to her chest. The expression on her face was a mixture of surprise and shock. Did he expect them to have sex now? Was her father actually right?

Ricky was quick to retrieve completely, standing with his bare back pressed against the cool partition wall opposite, gripping his dark hair. "Shit. I just... I didn't mean to."

"We shouldn't have done this," Olivia mumbled. "I'm sorry." She unlocked the door to the stall, hiding Ricky behind it, and stepped over his shirt, quickly running across the white marble floor for the door to the corridor.

She had only made it around the corner, her head swimming with conflicting thoughts, when she stopped dead in her track, alarmed. Her father stood by the double doors to the First Dance at the opposite end of the long wide hallway.

William spotted Olivia immediately and came stomping in her direction with the two police officers on his heels as he shouted her name. "Olivia Christine Davenport Casini! You've got some serious explaining to do!" He grabbed her by the arm, shaking her, and started dragging her down the carpeted hall.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," Olivia cried, his grip on her arm hurting, trying to keep up with his furious pace in her heels. "I didn't mean to do this."

"You tell that to your mother when we get home. We've been worried sick that you were lying somewhere like Tom."

"Fuck!" Ricky pushed the door to the toilet stall away aggressively and had to stop it from hitting him in the face when it swung back from the force. His irritation flared, and he punched it with his fist.

"Motherfuck!" he yelled at the pain traveling up his hand from his knuckles, shaking it out and groaning from the strain in his extremely sore ribs. Taking time to calm down, he picked his shirt up from the floor with another pained groan and put it on—not even caring that it was still damp as he walked back out into the corridor.

As the door closed behind him, he stopped and focused on buttoning up the shirt when someone ran straight into his bruised side.

"Oh, come on!" Ricky shouted furiously, only making the pain worse, and bent over, unable to breathe. That's when he realized it was Josephine—now sitting on the pattern midnight-blue carpet—who'd run into him. He halted at the sight of her. She looked like she had been in a fight. Her hair was tousled, her dress a mess, and teary makeup was running down her face.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed as she unsuccessfully tried to push him away before she got up awkwardly and ran past him.

"Birch," Ricky called softly after her, but it was no use. He turned back around and regrettably saw that the Amelias, the school's biggest blabbermouths of all people, were standing a little down the corridor from him.

The two blondes, Amelia LoPinto and Amelia York watched as Josephine disappeared in the other direction, and then looked at Ricky with raised eyebrows, giving him the once-over.

Ricky glanced down at himself, his shirt untucked and with buttons undone. He rolled his eyes. "I didn't touch her."

The Amelias didn't respond. They just continue to look at him with judging expressions, crossing their arms over their chest simultaneously, and walked past him down the hallway.

Cursing to himself, Ricky fixed his shirt, tucking it into his pants, and walked back to the ballroom in an even worse mood than when he left it. This was turning into one incredibly shitty night. He spotted Cole with Atticus and Mitchell in a corner when he reentered the First Dance and walked over to them, not caring about what he had told himself earlier in the night. Fuck it.

"Do you have any more stash?"

"Sure." Cole smiled crookedly at Ricky. "Follow me."