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
january '89
Dylan's eyes fluttered open, the morning sun spilling through her curtains like a spotlight. She blinked against the brightness, groaning softly as a headache throbbed at the base of her skull. A sort of pain she's never experienced before. It took her a moment to remember the events of the night before, but as she pushed herself up in bed, her heart sank and her head beat against itself even harder.
Her mind raced, scrambling through fragmented memories of laughter, clinking glasses, and a night that had seemed so vibrant. But the haze of intoxication began to lift, leaving only an unsettling emptiness. What happened after Nicholas offered to drive me home? Where was Sarah, Hannah, Emma, and Cara?
With a surge of anxiety, she glanced around her room, searching for clues. Her clothes were haphazardly strewn across the floor, and her purse lay upside down on her desk, the contents spilled out like a jigsaw puzzle. Her vanity was a mess from getting ready the night before, however it was clearly there was no trace of her friend's belongings left in her room. Frantically, she pushed the covers aside and stumbled out of bed.
"What the fuck..." she mumbled, stumbling her mirror to see her appearance.
Dylan padded to the living room, her heart racing as she felt the weight of the night press down on her. She poured a glass of water, hoping it would clear her head. Her mouth was severely dry as if she hadn't drank anything in days.
The sound of the television came from the living room, a reminder of what day it was. Sunday. Tom was home.
Tom caught a glimpse of his step-daughter stumbling to the kitchen, "Hey kiddo," he called out, lowering the volume, "Uh, your friends wanted me to tell you they had to leave early because a storm looks like it's heading up North."
Dylan peaked her head around the corner, "Yeah okay," she mumbled, still in the process of waking up. What a lame excuse. As she took a sip, the doorbell rang, echoing through the quiet house.
"Dylan! Dylan! Open up!"
She recognized Katie's voice, and her heart raced. With a mix of dread and hope, she hurried to the door, swinging it open to find Katie standing there, a concerned look on her face. She was dressed in an old crewneck and some sweats she swore she only wore as pajamas, Katie looked just as a wreck as she did.
"Hey," Katie said, her tone both light and serious. "Jeez Dylan, I was worried about you. I heard you and Nicholas left the party together last night."
Dylan's stomach dropped lowering her voice knowing Tom was just two rooms away. "What? I mean, yes, he drove me home, but I don't remember anything after that! Did people think something happened?"
Katie bit her lip, hesitating as she teetered her head. "Well, some of the people were talking. They assumed you guys... you know."
"Oh God," Dylan groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Fuck this is a disaster. I don't even remember what happened. What if the whole school thinks we—"
