By Hobson Brown
Welcome to Wellington
Boarding institution for society's elite, overachievers, and wealthy screwups.
No subject who you're, Wellington may be the private and most lovely time of your lifestyles, or the loneliest and so much tricky. And new ladies are approximately to determine which it is going to be for them . . .
Laine Hunt is a Wellington woman by way of blood: She lives the rustic membership lifestyles in Greenwich, Connecticut, she's a box hockey celebrity, and her turquoise eyes and blond hair flip heads at any place she is going. yet Laine has a mortal worry of failure that wakes her in the midst of the evening with a fever, and she'll do whatever to prevent it.
She additionally desires to steer clear of her roommate, fellow new woman Nikki Olivetti. Nikki is not Wellington material—she comes from a new-money ny kin who've despatched her away to save lots of her from the undesirable impression of her associates again domestic. Nikki's a tease, a loudmouth, and an absolute sweetheart—and she simply does not belong.
The ladies could not have much less in universal. other than, in fact, they either need to discover ways to continue to exist of their new world—a global without mom and dad, no safeguard web, and no restrict to how a lot hassle they could get into. nobody ever thinks they are going to crash and burn, yet anyone constantly does.
Will the hot women make it to the higher class?
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Additional info for The Upper Class
He looks her over, trying to gauge the nature of her surrender. But she’s mysterious to him. He’ll simply accept. “God, this is scary,” she says, looking at the room she’s lived in her whole life. Where she clomped around in a Little Mermaid nightgown and her mom’s Gucci stilettos. Where she wet the bed. Cried. Dreamed. Where she sat around with girlfriends and ate Pop Tarts, did homework, scratched names and hearts into the molding, performed séances, learned tricks from porn stolen from someone’s older brother, whitened teeth while combing dolls’ hair.
When she looks back, Laine sees a boat turned into the wind to dock, sails painted bloody purple by sunset. The returning students are much more relaxed, from summers spent lifeguarding or hiking mountains with Outward Bound or selling ice cream on Martha’s Vineyard, and from not having to do the work of introducing themselves to one another now. Their silhouettes linger by the water’s edge, laughter twinkling up through woods, as they let the new students leave first. Some kids grab tall grasses out of nervous energy as they walk.
Most students wake by alarm or a sense of urgency or a roommate’s voice, but Laine always wakes in this elementary way. Nikki sleeps in unruly pleasure, legs kicked over sheets, mouth open, dreams spilling like drool. There’s a warm, milky, sweet sleep smell that makes Laine sick. She sneaks away like a thief except she hasn’t taken anything. If 59 pressed, she can’t say why, but she feels desperate to get out of the room. Just being in the room sometimes makes Laine feel guilty. It’s as if Nikki walks around naked and no one wants to tell her, or as if she’s trailing ten feet of toilet paper stuck to her heel.