Upper & Under

+ two +

I turn the corner and I'm officially lost. Usually, I'm able to find my way home but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I observe my surroundings, trying to piece together my location, it's just a bunch of expensive-looking buildings.

I turn around to look behind me and in that exact moment, I run into someone's chest and I fall to the ground, elbow first.

"Shit," I hear someone say, "sorry."

"Oh it's fine-" I look up to see possibly the most attractive boy that exists on our planet with his hand extended out to help me up.

"Have I seen you before?" he asks, furrowing his brows in confusion.

I take a step back while clutching my elbow, "Nope, I don't know so. I've actually got to go."

"Wait," he grabs my uninjured arm so I don't run away, "let me help you with that."

"No, I can ice it back at my house," I respond.

"My house is just down the street, I'll have your arm fixed up in no time," he offers. 

 I look down at my elbow and it has already started bruising and it is bleeding so I agree to follow him back to his house.

I check my ankle on the way there, every Upper and Under is required to have a tattoo signifying their placement in society. Luckily, the bottom of my jeans reaches far enough so the tattoo is not visible.

We walk down the street in silence, I take in all the expensive buildings we pass. They all have shiny windows and graffiti-free sides, opposite of our side of town. The boy stops at a massive house and I trail behind him, noticing the perfect shrubbery in the front and a perfectly tailored garden. That is the best word I could use to describe the house, perfect.

"Wow, this place is-" I stop myself from continuing in order to not sound out of place, "nice house."

He lets out a small laugh before replying, "Thanks."

He opens the door and gestures me inside. The inside matches the beauty of the outside flawlessly. Marble floors, beautiful white pillars, and it is more well kept than any building I have ever stepped foot into.

"You can just take a seat in the kitchen and I'll be right back with a first aid kit," he tells me before running up the grand staircase.

I make my way into the kitchen, gawking at everything on the way there. I take a seat at the counter and the boy returns soon after.

"This looks pretty bad," he examines my elbow before grabbing a cotton ball and a bottle of isopropyl alcohol.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he replies, "it's just some basic first aid. This might sting a bit," he presses the cotton ball soaked in alcohol to my arm and I squirm slightly.

"Oh," I forgot I was talking to an Upper, he could probably beat anyone I know in a battle of witts.

"So what grade are you in?" he attempts to make conversation.

"Um," I say, "I'm senior." 

"Really? Me too, I wonder why I've never seen you at school before," he grabs a cotton pad and bandages to cover my elbow.

"Weird, I don't know," I act casual, "maybe just because it's a big school." If he found out I was an Under he could report me and I could go to jail or worse, they could kill me.

"Maybe, I thought I knew everyone in our class," he says, "I'll look for you in the halls tomorrow."

"Yeah, same," I laugh.

"So what's your name?" he questions.

"Lana," I withhold my last name because it would be a dead give away of my status, "yours?"

"Nate Harris," he replies casually as if his last name didn't just signify him being part of the famous Harris family, they were the lead investors in the DNA experiment when it first began.

"So you're a supporter of the DNA transplant movement?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

He stops what he's doing and looks at me square in the eye, "my parents are supporters of DNA transplants, I could not be more against it."

"Oh," I say, "why?" I continue since I've already started the conversation, I might as well hear an Upper's point of view. 

"Well, for starters, it's unfair for kids to grow up not knowing who they are. Hell, I can't relate to my parents or sister at all, I share nothing with them, not even DNA," he replies in a passionate tone.

"I get what you mean, my mom and I couldn't be more opposite," I tell him, "but your parents still love your differences, right?"

"They act as if they do," he finishes wrapping my elbow in gauze and tucks the end piece into the rest of the gauze, "but I know they would've gone back to choose a different person to trade DNA with if they knew I'd be a pain in the ass to them."

"So what would you do?" I ask him.

"If what?" he says.

"If you could go back, would you want to be you now or the you, you would've been?" I question.

He ponders my question for a few seconds before responding, "I don't know, my first instinct would be I'd stop them from changing my DNA but then I wouldn't be who I am now."

I'm about to respond but a female voice beats me to it, "Nate, where are you?"

"In the kitchen," he yells back. A girl, about fifteen, waltzes into the room.

"Who's this?" she asks, gesturing to me.

"Quinn, this is Lana. Lana, this is my sister, Quinn," he introduces us.

"Hi," I wave at her and she waves back.

"So, Nate, mom wants you to cook dinner tonight since she and dad are going out," Quinn tells him.

"Okay, I'll just order pizza or something," he shrugs her off.

"Ew," she replies, "we are not having pizza again."

"Fine, I'll make pasta, just go upstairs and do your homework," Nate says in a tone of annoyance.

"Okay, but when I come back downstairs I don't want to see you making out with my brother," she turns, looking me up and down.

"Got it," I smile awkwardly.

"She's a charmer," I tell Nate as soon as Quinn leaves.

"Try living with her," he tells me and it makes me smile, "hey, I'll drive you home so you don't have to walk." He grabs a set of keys from the counter.

"No," I respond, "I'm good, I like walking."

"It's the least I can do since you got hurt," he really won't give up.

"Fine," I give in, "could you just bring me to Bram's Diner?" I suggest the hole-in-the-wall dinner so he can bring me close to where the hole in the fence is.

"That's across town. Do you live over there?" he asks.

"Yeah," I lie.

"Okay, well then let's go," he says while heading upstairs, "I'm just going to tell my sister we're leaving, be right back."