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
It was May 1st, and the weight of uncertainty hung over Beverly Hills High like a storm cloud. Today, the students on the waitlist for their dream schools would finally know their fate—acceptance or rejection. Dylan couldn't help but feel the pressure mounting for both Nicholas and her boyfriend, but she had other things on her mind as she entered the cafeteria.
Her friends were already huddled at their usual table, and as Dylan approached, she could immediately tell something was off. Tiffany and Marissa were both looking frantic, their heads ducked close together as they spoke in rapid whispers.
"What's going on?" Dylan asked, dropping her tray onto the table and sitting down next to Katie.
Tiffany's eyes were wide with panic. "We're screwed, that's what."
"What happened?" Dylan asked, feeling a flicker of unease.
"It's the prom seating," Marissa said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Tiffany and I left class early and bought all our tickets, but there were no empty tables. And now... now the boys are over there, scrambling to find a spot for themselves. I can't believe this is happening."
Dylan's brow furrowed. "Wait, what do you mean? I thought you already got the table for us?"
"We did!" Tiffany said quickly. "For us, we're good. We're all set. But the seating is first come, first served when you buy the tickets, and those tables fill up fast."
Marissa sighed, throwing a glance toward the front of the cafeteria. "And it's not like they're going to let them sit with us and kick out the randoms at our table. All the good tables are already taken. They're gonna have to sit with whoever's left."
Katie looked between her friends, concern etched on her face. "This sucks. You really couldn't reserve a spot for them?"
"We tried," Tiffany said, her voice strained. "But some nerd had already grabbed the last big tables."
Dylan let out a breath, trying to keep her frustration in check. She'd never been a big fan of the pressure surrounding prom, but it was clear that for Tiffany and Marissa, this was a big deal. They'd been planning every detail for months. And now, it seemed like a lot was hanging in the balance—especially when the seating arrangements were so unpredictable. But she couldn't deny how sad she was that she'd have to be without half her friends on one of the most important nights of the year.
"Look," Dylan said, trying to keep the peace, "at least we have our spot, right? You know it'll work out."
Tiffany shot her a look of exasperation. "That's easy for you to say. I know Nicholas is gonna throw a fit about not sitting with us, and you know Eric—he'll be polite about it, but it's gonna feel... off."
