ELOISE
The collegiate gates of Vanderbilt University were a stark contrast to the small-town hierarchy of Oakridge High. Here, everything felt amplified—the sprawling brick pathways, the towering gothic architecture, and the overwhelming, electric buzz of thousands of elite students moving into their respective dorms.
It was mid-August, and the golden summer bubble had officially popped.
I stood in the center of the crowded campus square, my hands gripping the steering wheel of my new SUV as I crawled through the bumper-to-bumper traffic of parents in luxury vehicles. My mother’s logistics position within Weller Enterprises had secured our financial stability, but looking out at the sheer opulence of the Vanderbilt student body, the familiar prickle of high-society intimidation crep
