47 | Tea Party

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UPPER CLASS | cherriasian

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UPPER CLASS | cherriasian


june '89

Dylan adjusted the strap of her dress nervously as she stepped out of Tom's car. The Bel Air Country Club gleamed in the California sun, a lavish place that felt too foreign to her, even though she'd already been surrounded by wealth for months. The event she was about to attend was one of the most important on the social calendar—a debutante tea, an exclusive tradition that had come to feel more like a rite of passage than a social gathering. Christian had insisted she join after his mother made word of it, and Dylan's mom had eagerly pushed for it, so here she was.

Originally, Dylan had been reluctant. She didn't understand why anyone would care about a debutante ball or tea or whatever this was. It felt like a ritual to prove something she didn't even believe in. She wasn't sure what she was trying to prove—whether it was to her mom, to Christian's family, or to herself. But she knew one thing: after months of trying to fit into a world that seemed so foreign, this was her chance to prove she could play the game, that she belonged here just as much as anyone else beyond high school. So she put on her most convincing smile, tucked away the voice that reminded her she didn't need this, and signed up.

She sent Tom a wave before starting past the bushes. As she walked toward the club, she felt the weight of her decision. The click of her heels on the pavement echoed in her ears as she spotted the entrance to the grand building. She could hear laughter and chatter from inside, the scent of fresh flowers wafting from the courtyard. All around her, people seemed to comfortable—this was their world.

That was when she saw him—Eric. He was playing tennis by the courts, a casual game with another guy Dylan hadn't recognized, the sound of their rackets slicing through the air carrying over the low hum of conversation. Dylan couldn't help but stare for a second before making her way over, her curiosity piqued. It wasn't just that she hadn't expected to see him here. She had heard through the grapevine about how often the Chavez family frequented the Riviera club, but she hadn't expected him to be here, active, like he was truly at home in the space.

"Hey, Eric!" she called out, catching his attention as he wiped sweat from his brow and shot her a quick smile.

Dylan walked up, her heels clicking against the pavement. As always, she was slightly bemused by how casual Eric seemed, as though it were just another day for him. "I didn't know you'd be here."

Eric paused, swinging his racket over his shoulder with an easy grin. "Yeah, um, I'm here because of a friend," he said, with a shrug that was both casual and dismissive.

Dylan raised an eyebrow glancing over at the new boy. "Your friend, huh?" she said with a teasing smile, giving him a playful look that said everything without her needing to voice it.

He shifted uncomfortably, but only for a moment before his grin returned. He'd never been great at hiding things, but it was clear he was trying to keep his composure, knowing Dylan wasn't exactly clueless and one of the only few people who knew about his secret.

𝚄𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚂 | NICHOLAS CHAVEZWhere stories live. Discover now