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
The winter sun streamed through Katie's bedroom window, casting a warm glow across the mess of clothes and magazines strewn about. Dylan sat cross-legged on Katie's bed, half-listening to the latest gossip Katie was sharing about the cheer team when the conversation took a sudden turn.
"So... you know, you should totally come with us to watch the boys practice soon. Tennis season is finally here," Katie said, her eyes twinkling as she glanced up from painting her nails. "Carter's always there, Nicholas and Eric too. I swear, it'll be fun—and way better than staying at home alone tomorrow."
Dylan looked up, feeling a slight pang of nerves at the suggestion. "I don't know... It'd probably be kind of weird, don't you think? Nicholas is barely even a friend. And Eric..." She trailed off, memories of the New Year's Eve and the kiss she'd walked in on still vivid in her mind.
Katie raised an eyebrow, giving her a playful nudge. "Oh, please. You're overthinking it. It's not like we're going to storm the court and embarrass them. We'll just sit on the sidelines and enjoy the view. Plus, don't you think it'd be a little hot watching sweaty men grunt?"
"Katie!" Dylan exclaimed with wide eyes, "Oh my gosh you freak-"
Katie shook her head laughing, "What? You know I'm right..."
"Shut up," Dylan said, biting her lip.
She thought of Nicholas's smirk, the way he could be so annoyingly confident yet strangely considerate, especially during the last few moments they shared. There was a part of her that was intrigued, a part that wanted to see what he was like outside the walls of his home or school.
"And come on, we're cheerleaders," Katie added, grinning as she carefully waved a freshly painted fingernail in the air. "It's totally normal for us to be there. Honestly, it'll look more weird if we don't show up eventually. You and Eric are like this," she held up her hand, interlacing her fingers,
"Still... you know people are talking," Dylan muttered. "I don't really want to add fuel to the fire."
Katie rolled her eyes, giving her a sympathetic look. "Dylan, no one actually believes those rumors. The people who matter? They know better." She paused, her expression softening. "Trust me, if you go, you'll see that nobody's thinking about it as much as you think they are."
Dylan's resolve softened a little. She hadn't really hung out with Katie and the girls in a while, and the idea of spending time with them—without the pressure of a party or a big social event—sounded nice. Plus, Katie was right; even if her and Eric hadn't hung out in almost a month, she was still his friend. Always.
"Alright," she said finally, exhaling. "I'll come, but if it gets awkward, I'm bailing immediately."
Katie squealed, leaning over to wrap her in a hug. "I promise, you won't regret it! You'll see—it's just sports practice, no big deal. We'll go, watch the game, make some dirty commentary, and you can head home if it gets weird."
