Olivia and Ricky's Odyssey to Rock Bottom

13. Interruptions

Content warning: Though there aren't graphic details, this chapter contains mentions of sexual assault.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Ricky ran a hand through his hair, tousling the longer length while he waited, trying to think of how to start the conversation. Olivia wasn't Sebastian, after all. He had no way of knowing if she would, or even could, help him.

It was a black woman who answered—the housekeeper in a uniform, wearing an apron. "Yes?"

"Hey, um, is Olivia home? I need to see her."

"I'm sorry, Miss Davenport can't have any visitors."

"Listen, I really need to talk to her." Ricky pleaded with his eyes, putting a hand on the heavy door to prevent the housekeeper from closing it on him.

Inside the penthouse, Olivia descended the stairs with her arms full of books, heading for the terrace by the kitchen to study. She had changed out of her school uniform, wearing slippers with a pair of three-quarter sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, dressed to see no one and do nothing but stay grounded at home with her hair pulled up in a messy bun high on her head.

Listening to music through a pair of earphones, she was completely unaware the doorbell had rung.

Heading toward the open dining room, Olivia noticed Jamila was by the front door in the vestibule, getting a shock when she saw that it was Ricky standing at the open door. Surprised at catching his eyes, Olivia stumbled over her feet and lost her balance. Books fell through her arms with a clatter, and she accidentally stepped on one of them, making her yelp as she slipped and landed flat on the floor with a tumble, scraping her chin on the rug, her teeth smacking painfully together.

Please, don't let it be Ricky. Please-please-please, she thought as she groaned quietly, hoping her eyes had deceived her. But, of course, it was him.

Ricky came rushing in, throwing his school bag off his shoulder on the way, looking at her with concern as her earphones fell out.

No... Olivia turned red in the face from embarrassment. Why couldn't the ground have swallowed her when she was already down?

"Shit, are you okay?" Ricky asked with a soft voice, looking concerned and squatting in front of her as she sat up.

"Um, yeah," Olivia said in a small voice and carefully laid a hand on the stinging rug burn to soothe.

Jamila walked around them and gathered the books. Some had managed to scoot all the way into the dining room from the hall.

"You need a bandage or something?" Ricky tilted his head to see the scratch under Olivia's chin.

"No, uh, I think I'm fine," Olivia dismissed and pushed her glasses up her nose.

Jamila apparently thought differently. "I'll get you one," she said kindly and put the books down on the dining table, disappearing into the household's quarter of the penthouse.

"Here, let me help you." Ricky held out a hand. Olivia took it hesitantly, and he pulled her up, suppressing a groan from the strain it put on his ribs. He really messed them up again when he wrestled free of his father's grip.

"Thanks." Olivia lowered her gaze and saw the white wire to her earphones dangling out of her pocket. She took her iPod out to stop the music and twisted the wire around its body before putting it back.

"Sure." Ricky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck, and then pointed to her pocket. "What were you listening to?"

"Just some indie stuff."