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
Friday had come quicker than Dylan expected, bringing with it a mix of relief and routine. The first few days of college had been... fine. Not great, not terrible. Just fine. Classes were nothing extraordinary—she didn't love them, didn't hate them. They were there, a constant hum in the background of her new life.
What threw her off more than anything was how detached it all felt. She wasn't used to sitting in lecture halls full of strangers, barely saying a word to anyone beyond polite exchanges. In high school, she had known everyone, and even when she didn't feel like talking, people always seemed to know her. Here, she felt like a ghost, aimlessly drifting between buildings across campus and unorganized schedules.
The interview with the library had been a welcome distraction. It gave her something to focus on, and she'd been surprised at how quickly she landed the part-time position. Training earlier that Friday afternoon had been straightforward, even a little boring, but at least it was something familiar—a job. A task. A purpose.
Outside of class, things were a little better. Olivia had taken to hanging out with their group almost daily, showing up at Dylan and Crystal's dorm so often that it barely felt like their space anymore. She was everywhere—at meals, at random meet-ups, and now even in their plans for the night. Dylan couldn't exactly complain; Olivia was friendly, and there was no reason not to like her. But her constant presence made it almost impossible to spend any time alone with Nicholas.
The whole week, their interactions had been limited to quick smiles, stolen glances, and the occasional comment when the group was together. It was frustrating, but Dylan didn't blame Olivia. Not really. She couldn't bring herself to be upset at someone who was clearly just trying to fit in.
It was around 8:00 p.m. now, and the air in their dorm buzzed with anticipation. The faint crackle of the radio filled the space, playing a top 40 hit. Dylan stood at her desk, curling her hair in the small mirror propped up against the wall, while Crystal sat across the room, expertly applying dark blue eyeshadow.
The night ahead was supposed to be exciting. Dinner with the group earlier had been filled with talk about the party—the music, the people, and, of course, the drinks. Dom, Nicholas, and Eric were out now, picking up booze thanks to Dom's fake ID. Dylan had to admit, she was actually looking forward to the night. College was new, unfamiliar, and often awkward, but moments like this—getting ready with Crystal, music playing, plans on the horizon—made it feel like the kind of life she had imagined when she left home.
She caught herself smiling in the mirror, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Maybe tonight would be fun. Maybe it wouldn't feel weird or awkward or overwhelming. Maybe it would just be... good.
