In 1988 when Dylan Montgomery moves to Beverly Hills after her mother remarries, she must navigate the challenges of fitting into a glamorous but daunting upper-class life. Living across from the charmingly cocky Nicholas and his introspective broth...
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UPPER CLASS | cherriasian
september '88
The moment I stepped into Beverly Hills High School, the world felt like it shifted beneath my feet. Almost like I had created the newest route of life and the universe didn't agree to see me fit. It was almost like it was against time itself in my appearance even if it were the very first day of school.
Everything about it screamed wealth and privilege, from the sleek cars idling in the parking lot to the polished hallways teeming with laughter and chatter. My heart raced as I clutched my binder tightly against my chest, reminding myself to breathe. I had to keep my head high, even if the knot in my stomach threatened to pull me down. For many moments while getting ready and on the way to school I almost felt like I was wearing a costume rather than real clothes. Were there still signs of my old life left on them? While my nerves never betrayed my outer state, they sure were a known friend to my inner thoughts.
It had only been a few days since I've moved in, less than a week to be precise. It was the beginning of September now but somehow I still felt like the Summer was still here. The blistering heat was a constant reminder that this wasn't just a vacation, this was where my life would be now. Only a few days and Tom still wasn't home from his business trip. The occasional two calls a day would always come to check up on my mom and me but I hadn't a clue what he really did outside of that.
I had never been to Europe until their wedding. I hadn't even known the Amalfi Coast was in Italy until the flight. But that was the very little time we had together. The only few conversations I had with Tom were limited. But I try not to think about him since he isn't here now.
Navigating the school was another challenge I've thought and lingered on for nights. The hallways twisted and turned like a maze, filled with students moving in every direction. I consulted my schedule for the third time, desperately trying to find my first class, but it seemed every room number blurred together. The halls were a lot wider than at my old high school, probably to fit this many kids in one building. I hadn't even dared to stop to ask where I could find room 204, I've heard about the contrasting social interactions between the East and west coast and I wasn't ready to test if they were true.
After climbing a set of stairs and swimming with the rest of the crowd, I spotted Room 204 and slipped inside, grateful to escape the chaos of the hallway. The biology classroom was spacious, sunlight streaming through large windows. I found a seat at the back, hoping to remain unnoticed and miss the wave of new girl attention.
As the teacher began to drone on about the syllabus and cellular structures, I let my mind wander. I was keenly aware of the constant side eyeing and small whispers around me. A group of girls seated at the front were giggling, their laughter cutting through the monotony. It seemed everytime something like this happened the teachers were suddenly deaf.
