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
august '89
By 2 p.m., Dylan finally felt human again. After the early morning encounter with Nicholas, the walk back to her dorm, and a much-needed one-to-two-hour nap, she was properly ready for the rest of the day. Earlier, she'd joined Crystal for a late brunch in the dining hall after Crystal had woken up and dragged herself out of bed. The pancakes had been too sweet, the coffee had been too weak, but the company had been good enough to distract Dylan from the restless thoughts lingering in her mind.
Now after leaving their dorm, the two of them strolled across campus toward the lively Welcome Week event sprawling across the main quad. Tables and booths lined every pathway, buzzing with energy as students milled about, calling out greetings or tossing frisbees on the grass. The air was alive with chatter, laughter, and the occasional bassline of music pumping from a nearby speaker.
"This is... a lot," Crystal said, taking in the colorful banners and balloons tied to various tables.
"It's kind of nice," Dylan replied, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts. "Feels like a fair or something."
"True," Crystal said, squinting as a guy in a bright polo handed out flyers for the Debate Society nearby.
They wandered through the crowd for a bit, stopping occasionally to check out booths that had groups surrounding them. Crystal was animated as always, her energy infectious, but Dylan's mind kept drifting back to the morning's events—and to the unexpected run-in afterward.
Eventually, Dylan glanced at Crystal and cleared her throat. "Hey, I should probably tell you something before it happens."
Crystal arched a brow. "What is it?"
"There's a chance this girl might join us later," Dylan said, her tone cautious.
Crystal stopped in her tracks. "What girl? Should I be concerned?"
Dylan laughed nervously. "No, it's not like that. Her name's Olivia. I met her back in June during orientation. We shared a room that weekend."
"Oh, okay." Crystal tilted her head, studying Dylan. "But still, should I be worried?"
"No— No it's just... Olivia can be... a lot," Dylan admitted, shifting uncomfortably. "She's really chirpy and forward. And, well, when we met, all she wanted to talk about was well.. Nicholas."
Crystal's eyes widened. "Nicholas? Your Nich—I mean, Nicholas?" She quickly corrected herself, though the slip made Dylan's stomach flutter nervously.
"Yeah, I ran into her this morning." Dylan trailed off, realizing the precariousness of what she was about to say.
Crystal gave her a long look but didn't press further. "And she wants to hang out now?"
