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
may '89
The silence in the car stretched on, thick and heavy, broken only by the faint hum of the engine and the sound of tires rolling over the smooth pavement. Dylan sat stiffly in her seat, the hem of her dress bunched nervously in her hands.
"I don't even know why I'm coming," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced over at Christian, who kept his eyes firmly on the road. "I mean, this isn't exactly my scene. It's not like I'll know anyone."
Christian let out a sigh, sharp and impatient. "Dylan, we've been over this." His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening. "It's my prom. You're my date. Isn't that enough of a reason to go?"
One of Christian's classmates was hosting a pre-prom gathering at her home. Something that his whole grade would be attending as if it was the prom iteself.
"It's not that I don't want to support you," she said quickly, trying to explain herself before he could cut her off again. "It's just... you know how I get in these situations. I don't know how to act around your friends—"
"My friends are fine," he interrupted, his tone clipped. "You're making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. It's one night, Dylan. Just one night."
She bit her lip, her stomach churning. "I just... I'm worried. I feel like they don't like me. Or they're judging me because of—"
"Who cares what they think?" Christian shot back, glancing at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road. "You're not dating them, you're dating me. Besides, we already had your night. I showed up to your prom, didn't I? I danced with you, I smiled for the pictures, I did everything right."
Dylan flinched at his words, the way he threw them out like a tally of debts owed. "That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" he snapped, his voice rising just slightly.
She opened her mouth to answer but stopped herself. What was the point? That she felt out of place, like she didn't belong in his world? That she didn't trust the people he surrounded himself with—or even him, not entirely? She couldn't say any of that, not without turning the car ride into a full-blown argument.
Christian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Look, Dylan. Tonight isn't about any of that. It's about us going to my prom, having a good time, and making memories. Can we please just... focus on that?"
His voice softened at the end, almost pleading, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his frustration.
Dylan swallowed hard and nodded, even though her throat felt tight. "Yeah. Okay."
She turned her head to look out the window, blinking back the sting in her eyes. The city lights blurred together as they sped down the freeway, her reflection staring back at her in the glass.
