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Chapter 15 : Billionaires And Dora

"Yes George! You can do it!" Ian cheered and clapped as I stuffed spicy chicken wings in my mouth. It was an eating competition, a competition where hungry people like me belonged.

"Ian, this-this is too spicy! Tissue please!" I called out to Ian who rushed to me with a box of tissue papers. Water was streaming down my eyes and nose and sauce dripped from my mouth as Ian tried to wipe it. Gross, but tasty.

Initially, the competition was fun with delicious chicken sliding down my tummy. The pepper sauce was so hot that I was afraid I would have to sit in the bathroom the entire next day. The sun was shining brightly and the ground felt like a hot, iron pan which just added to my bathroom worry. I hoped that my bladder would be alright.

Clark was leaning against a car and coolly staring at me competing with a bunch of gigantic men, thrice my size. I was still aiming to win and maybe I could with determination and loosening my pants buttons.

Some men gave up and passed out on the chairs with only a few of us remaining. The food was damn hot and spicy and even a glass of milk didn't help me. Finally, the judge declared the competition to be over and the winning [the people who didn't pass out] three participants, including me rose up from our seats with great difficulty. The judge talked to the hosts who had measured how much we ate and I came third. Freaking third after stuffing so much!

"Congratulations, George! You did it," Ian praised me as he helped me up. I groaned and leaned on him for support.

"Come on, Ian. I thought at least this time I could make it to the first place. I came third again after three consecutive years!" I whined and he patted my back in sympathy.

"On the bright side, you should be proud to win against those really big men."

"Yeah, they do look like they're permanently pregnant," I pointed out and he chuckled.

"Do you want me to bring some candies? You know, your mouth must be on fire."

"Hell yeah!" I agreed eagerly as he went to bring me some diabetic treats.

I was still recovering from the after-effects of the competition. My stomach was so full that I thought I would puke any second or burst out into bits. Sweat was formed over my forehead and mouth as I wiped it with the sleeve of my shirt. There was sauce stains all over my clothes. I cringed inwardly. I needed to freshen up and I had brought a pair of spare clothes along with me.

"George, George," I heard a man's voice coming from behind me and I turned around. One of the host of the competition came running to me and he handed me a small bronze coloured trophy with a cheque. "Here is your trophy and a cash price of thirty dollars."

"Look, thirty dollars! You all are really very generous."

"Can't help, you came third," he said almost accusingly and I just sighed.

"How much does the second place get?"

"Hundred dollars," he answered and I quickly caught his arm, before he could escape.

"Isn't it unfair that I'm getting only thirty and the place before me gets hundred? The gap is too wide, I smell--- "

"Fine, here is more twenty dollars. You can't ask more than that and don't you dare complain to anybody that we're being stingy. It spoils our town's reputation," he said, flung the twenty dollars at me and fled before I could utter a word.

"Fuck reputation," I muttered and noticed Clark texting by his car. I sprinted towards him and said cheerfully, "Hello there, billionaire!"

"Keep your voice low Georgia or I won't hesitate to do something awful," he threatened coldly and my grin widened.

"Oh, you cannot scare me or shut me with your erm . . . kisses because you wouldn't be able to kiss me now. I taste like hot chicken and not in a good way," I said. "Anyway, I want to change my clothes but the public toilets stink and home is too far."

"Very unfortunate, but does it looks like I give a damn?"

"Of course not, but it would be kind if you take me with your car somewhere-where less people are present. I want you to then get down from the car, guard the area till I get changed inside the car."

"And why do you think I would do that?"

"You very well know that." I smirked. "CLARK HERE IS A BILL---"

He quickly cut me off by placing his large hand over my mouth and awkwardly cracked a smile to the people who curiously watched us.

"Fine, get in the damn car," he said grudgingly and it looked like he was definitely pissed. I smiled triumphantly and sat in the car. I noticed his little finger twitch in and his lips pursed into a grim line. I switched on the radio, my head hung low to block his heated look.

He drove us towards the woods where nobody was around. He parked the car and got down as instructed. I opened my paper bag and went to the back seat to change.

"Stop fucking texting and look around if anybody is approaching us!" I shouted as I struggled to slip into my jeans.

He completely ignored me and I sighed.

"Georgia?"

"What now?" I barked and tried my best to wear my t-shirt in the crammed space.

"There are some bikers coming here. Are you done?"

"What? No! This freaking t-shirt has got stuck here. It's not moving down!" I whined and struggled because my arms were twisted in the t-shirt and the t-shirt was not sliding down my neck. Due to the fabric covering my face, I couldn't see anything- only pitch black and panic surged through me.

"What the hell are you doing, Georgia? Your t-shirt has got stuck to your abnormally large face," I heard Clark's voice and realized that he was looking at me.

"Hey! My face is not large or fat! And stop looking, you pervert!" I cried out and I knew that he got a clear view of my Dora bra.

"Guess who likes Dora now," Clark's taunting tone stabbed my mind and I cursed fucking Dora.

"Shut up you perv!" I snarled and my hands went flying everywhere, in an attempt to slip into the t-shirt.

"Duck!"

"What?"

"I said, duck. The bikers are coming here and you wouldn't want them to see poor Dora," Clark teased again and I quickly ducked down. I was suffocating in that little space and I heard the noise of the motorbikes and their owners creating a ruckus.

"All clear," I heard Clark's calm voice after a few minutes and I got up. I had given up wearing the t-shirt since it was not fitting me properly. I made a mistake by carrying along my new t-shirt but it was perfect when I tried it on before buying. I guess I had to go home to change anyway.

"Do you not plan on covering Dora?" Clark asked as he shamelessly ogled at my breasts.

"Geez, look somewhere else! I know I'm fucking hot but that doesn't mean you keep drooling over me," I sneered and he rolled his eyes. "This effing t-shirt is not fitting me!"

"I have a spare shirt in that plastic bag, you can use that."

"Really? Phew, that's good." I reached for the plastic bag where there was a white linen shirt and I quickly wore it. The shirt smelled so much of manly cologne, so much of him. I sniffed slyly and buttoned the shirt.

"Your welcome," Clark murmured and got in the car.

"About Dora . . . Don't tell anybody please," I pleaded with puppy eyes and Clark snickered.