Delirious || Bozari

Chapter Thirteen: Atomic

Atomic jolted awake, her face covered in freezing-cold water. Psycho was standing over her, an empty cup in hand.

"Is the princess finally awake?" the platinum-blonde girl asked, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder. She had her hands on her hips, and there was impatience shining in her grey eyes.

It was weird how obsessed with grey that girl was. Her hair, her eyes, her clothes, her lipstick, her nails... everything about her was silver. It wasn't a look Atomic would personally go for, but she admired how devoted to the style Psycho seemed to be.

"Yes," Atomic growled, sitting up and stretching. She was still wearing the outfit Silver had designed for her, and felt guilty for sleeping in it. It was one of the last things she had left of Silver's. Sleeping in it was almost like disrespecting him.

"Finally!" Psycho exclaimed. "I've been screaming at you for the past five minutes! Are you deaf?"

"No!" Atomic shot back, defending herself.

"Then stop acting like it!" Psycho replied, rolling her eyes.

"Why are you even here?" Atomic asked. Out of all the girls she'd met so far, Psycho was the one she liked the least. She had an aura of false superiority surrounding her. If she had an Instagram, she'd probably be one of those girls who showed off their body in every picture.

"Vixen has decided that you need some hand-to-hand combat training," Psycho explained. "Apparently, your little boyfriend neglected to teach you that, even though it was one of his specialties, so here we are. Now get dressed. You look like a barbie a girl superglued glitter onto."

Atomic was practically fuming at this point. How dare she talk about Silver like that? There was nothing she could do in response, however, so she grabbed a change of clothes and went behind the paper walls that were scattered around the room to change, glaring at Psycho every second that she could.

A minute later, she got finished changing into a simple shirt, sports bra, and shorts. Psycho pocketed her phone. "Let's go."

Atomic followed her out of the sleeping quarters and into the main section of the Compound. Other girls were already scuttling around, performing whatever tasks they were expected to do. It seemed that she'd missed breakfast, and had to settle for a piece of toast that had been left on the counter of an abandoned A&W ("Food for latecomers," Psycho had informed her with a sneer).

She had to eat it on the fly as Psycho led her down to the parking lot. The delivery girls were the only ones down here, all of them wearing the standard uniforms for girls, running around with packages in their hands.

Psycho took her right by them and down a level. There were no cars down here, and the few lights that hung from the ceiling barely lit up the place. In the middle of the abandoned parking lot, there was a boxing ring set up, with red mats making up its base and rope hung between four poles surrounding it.

Surrounding the ring were Pamick and a black-haired, green-eyed girl wearing a leather jacket that Atomic had never seen before. Inside the ring were two girls; Wrath, and a girl with dark brown hair that looked latin. The two of them had been fighting, but they stopped at the sight of them.

"There you are," Wrath grumbled. To this day, Atomic still couldn't help feeling a bit intimidated by her. Wrath had deep brown downturned eyes and long brown hair. She was tall; six feet at the least. What was most terrifying about her, however, were her muscles. That girl looked like the Mountain from Game of Thrones. Before meeting her, Atomic hadn't even known that girls were capable of having that much muscle. "We've been waiting for you."

"Blame her," Psycho complained, sliding under the ropes and doing a complicated hand greeting with the latin girl. 

Wrath brought her eyes up to Atomic, who was still standing halfway across the parking lot, having stayed behind while Psycho rushed forwards to the other girls. She gave the taller woman an awkward hand-wave.