Olivia and Ricky's Odyssey to Rock Bottom

8. Genie

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 him 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 he 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.