Taylor grinned at me like I was his favourite person in the whole world and I smiled back. It always amazed me that he'd stayed my friend after I was relocated to the fortieth floor. I'd been moved more than a hundred levels lower than him and his family, but he never mentioned it. He didn't even seem to have a problem with visiting me. I’d been embarrassed at first, but he didn't seem to care at all and I loved him for that.
We moved through the nearly deserted hallways past rows of apartment doors and approached a figure who was crouched down and concealed in a shadow beyond a broken light. Something about him sent a shiver running down my spine and my hands instinctively balled into fists.
We drew level with the man and he stood up, making my heart lurch at the sight of his dark overalls. He had a tattoo that looked like some kind of twisted knot which ran from the side of his neck down beneath his collar. Ew.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he said in a gravelly voice with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"You didn't, she's fine." Taylor spoke as easily as he would to anyone. The man was still looking at me and my nose started wrinkling of its own accord.
“There's a broken light." He pointed to further demonstrate the obvious. Why is he being so weird? And so creepy?
“Yes," I said, managing to keep most of the unease out of my voice.
“Have a nice day." Taylor smiled pleasantly at the man who was desperately in need of a shave. And a bath. I heard they didn’t even have baths below level twenty five. It was probably just a bucket and a mop head by the time you reached ten. On level zero? They were no doubt slapping on a vat of aftershave and hoping for the best. Aftershave they stole from topside, of course. Not that I was biased or anything…
I didn’t say a word and Taylor tightened his grip on my hand, dragging me on down the corridor.
I glanced back and saw the guy watching us through narrowed eyes as we turned a corner. I narrowed my eyes right back and he shook his head at me like I was the weirdo.
“That was rude.” Taylor frowned at me.
“I know, they shouldn't be allowed up here when we're around," I began but Taylor stopped walking and jerked me to a halt beside him. "What?" I asked.
“I meant you were rude. He was just doing his job."
“But he's a Dweller," I scoffed, lowering my voice in case he heard us. I was all for silently ridiculing his bath habits, but I hadn’t missed the muscles on that dude. He could throw me over his shoulder and drag me back to his cesspit for playtime if he wanted to. I shuddered.
A small fraction of the population within the city didn't want to further themselves. They lived on the bottom floors of the housing buildings without trying to advance any higher. Generally speaking, anyone who lived below level twenty was known as a Dweller.
They were given menial jobs that basically amounted to city maintenance in various forms. They were fond of tattoos and working-out too much and had a bad reputation among the rest of the city residents. The Lawless Trials were mainly populated by Dwellers who had been caught breaking the law and I didn't doubt that plenty more of them were up to undiscovered illegal activities.
“You shouldn't be so judgmental.” Taylor scowled as he started moving down the hallway again, pulling me along behind him.
“Everyone has the opportunity to better themselves. I'm not planning on staying on forty my whole life. And there's no reason for them to stay down there; they want to be Dwellers.” I tried, and failed, to stop my lip from curling as I said the word.
“Whatever. You still don't have to be rude." Taylor looked away from me like he was disappointed and my heart twisted in my chest. I glanced back in the direction of the smeller – I mean Dweller- with a frown. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a bitch, I was just stating facts. The Wardens were always putting out warnings about making sure your doors were locked since there’d been a rise in home invasions. And who were the culprits one hundred percent of the time? Dwellers. So I may have been a harsh, cold bitch about them. But I also had my reasons. Reasons which would ensure I never woke up with a tattooed creep in my home, wielding a knife and rubbing my favourite soap up and down between his asscrack.
We arrived at the elevators and Taylor pushed the button to call one, still giving me the silent I’m-very-upset-with-your-behaviour treatment.
I rolled my eyes while he wasn't looking. I loved that boy but he could be judgemental as fuck sometimes. I was already slapped with Dweller jokes at school just because I lived on forty. He had no idea what it was like to be looked at like you were less than. And if I didn’t differentiate myself from them, then no one else in my class was going to. And yeah, maybe that made me a hypocrite. But it sure as shit didn’t make me a bullied one.
As we waited, I noticed that Taylor still had a firm hold on my hand. He'd been doing that more and more lately and I pursed my lips as I tried to come up with a way to reclaim it without offending him. I shook my hand loose, running it through my hair to give me a reason for wanting it back and Taylor threw an annoyed look at me from the corner of his eye, which suggested I hadn't been as subtle about it as I'd hoped.
The elevator dinged and opened smoothly. For once, it was empty of passengers and the space inside echoed dully as we stepped in.
The brightly lit, silver cube welcomed us onboard as it did every day with the promise of a quick and easy journey to our destination in a monotone female voice. Taylor hit the button and we headed up to level one fifty, my ears popping from the sudden upward acceleration.
I glanced at Taylor who had adopted a sullen expression. He must have gained a good foot on me now, the planes of his face were sharpening too and he was looking more like a man than the boy who I played kiss chase with as a child. The silence stretched between us and I chewed on my bottom lip.
“You need a haircut." I grinned at him as he brushed his floppy brown hair out of his grey eyes.
“So my mother keeps saying," he replied and a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth again. I felt the knot of tension in my stomach release. Just like that, we were best friends again. Like we always would be. Even if I was downgraded to a Dweller and claimed my own cesspit to splash around in, Taylor would never abandon me for it. He was a better person than me. A better person than most people. I roughened up his smooth edges and he smoothed out my rough ones. Together, we found the perfect balance.
"Level one fifty. Alight here for the Walkways," the smooth, feminine voice announced as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.
I pushed all thoughts of the Dweller aside as I remembered we were about to go out-freaking-side. The air around me smelled sweeter today. It almost smelled like destiny.
There wasn't a time of day when the Walkways weren't busy.