Saving Brownie | ✔

Chapter 31 : A Fooking Orange

I didn't know why I did that. I ran back into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. I didn't know why I was breathing heavily as I leaned against the door. I was a badass tomboy who didn't give a damn about anything, but when Clark saw me in a wet, very short towel, I felt my heart hammering loudly against my chest. A freaking blush creeped up my neck! I needed to visit a doctor immediately. Or more so, check into a mental asylum.

"You were supposed to be in the restaurant with Ian!" I shouted from inside the bathroom, feeling myself flush in embarrassment.

"We then thought of ordering the food in our rooms," he said calmly as if least affected by what had happened a few seconds ago.

I should just go out now since he didn't care anyway. He already saw me so there was no use in hiding. I mustered up enough courage and inhaled deeply, all the while cursing at myself. Then I slowly opened the door and stepped out. Clark was still seated on the bed, his face buried in his hands. He looked up slowly, his eyes watching my every move as I walked across him boldly in the towel only to prove that I was brave.

I stopped when I could feel him continue to stare at me intensely like I was already naked. I whirled around and he quickly looked away, redness spreading over his cheeks and neck. So he was getting affected by me.

I didn't say anything and took two steps further. Again, I could feel him staring at me. I turned around and he again looked away, pretending that he never saw me, but his scarlet face said otherwise.

"What?" I asked irritatedly.

"What?" he asked back innocently.

"What, what?" I asked and he casually shrugged. I just stood there like a dumbass as he slowly swept his eyes over my body. I cleared my throat and he averted his gaze to his feet.

It was adorable seeing him getting affected by me like that and being all shy, instead of being stone cold.

Suddenly, he stood up and strode towards me confidently- the redness of his face disappearing. I gulped, but raised my chin defiantly. My breath quickened when he stood in front of me, so close. His lips brushed mine ever so slightly that sent tingling sensations throughout my body. He then clutched my towel, just above my breasts, his fingers grazing my cleavage and I could feel sudden panic rise in me.

Oh my God, what was he planning to do? I couldn't do that with him just yet. A part of me wanted to feel his warm touch, to give in his desires and mine . . .

No, no, no, no, no! What the fuck was wrong with me? I was acting like a horny bunny. I should just push him away subtly and firmly tell him no.

He didn't let go of his grip on my towel and said in a husky voice, "Hold on Georgia, your towel's falling. You don't want to give me a little peek show now, do you?"

"I uh-oh thought of something else," I breathed and mentally smacked myself when he smirked. He released the towel and I held it tightly against my chest. "Uh well, thanks for being a gentleman."

"Anytime," he whispered and stared at me fervently. He leaned forward, but stopped abruptly. He was in a dilemma whether to kiss me or not as I could notice the conflict clearly evident on his face. My eyes pleaded him to go on, but he fought the urge and quietly backed away.

I stepped forward in a attempt to wrap my arms around him, but he gently stopped me. He admitted coyly, "I will not be able to---"

"Oh, so is little Tommy excited again?"

"Here we go again," he muttered in frustration and ran a hand through his sultry, dark hair. "Get dressed."

"Why?"

"Don't tempt me," he bellowed in a barely audible voice and the way his eyes darkened, I nearly ran towards my bags while clutching my little towel.

I lifted the huge bag of mine and placed it on the bed. I unzipped the bag and to my horror, I saw no clothes. There were NO clothes of mine in the bags, just some random stuff scattered around.

"What on earth . . . " I murmured and in a instant, Clark was towering behind me.

"See, there is packet of naphthalene balls! A toy truck! A tin mug! A ball of cotton! A bottle of bleach! And an orange?" I scowled. "A fooking orange?" I chucked the orange furiously at the wall and Clark gently picked it up. He quietly rubbed the orange and I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"

"I love oranges," he mumbled and looked down at the orange in sympathy. He silently peeled the skin of the orange and my jaw hung wide open. What was wrong with him?

"Where are all my clothes?" I asked in a shrill voice and Clark raised his brows.

"You should know, it's your bag," he said nonchalantly and continued to eat the juicy orange.

"My bag must be exchanged at the airport!"

"Not possible, nobody could own a whacky and an absurd bag like yours."

That was true, my huge bag was custom made with animated pictures of baboon's red butts and my name in weird fonts all over. It was still cool though. Very cool.

"Right, but then where are my clothes?" I asked myself and tightened the towel around me. "Oh wait . . . My high school friends helped me pack my bags, but they wouldn't pull this prank on me. They shouldn't. They better not!"

I hurriedly dialed all their numbers, but nobody picked up. That confirmed one thing, they did it. They pranked me!

I was fuming and beyond mad at them and more at myself for not being careful. This was the first time anybody successfully managed to pull a prank on me! I was holding my towel so tightly in frustration, I would just rip it off.

Clark stalked towards his bags and unzipped them. He silently tossed me his long shirt and boxers which I gladly accepted. Fortunately, all my undergarments were still in the bottom of the bag which they didn't bother to remove. I went in the bathroom and wore fresh undergarments before slipping into Clark's shirt and boxers.

"Georgia, your phone is ringing," Clark called out and I sprinted towards my phone.

It was from one of my friends, I picked it up. "George, you called us?"

I heard many people giggling in the background and I balled my hands into fists. The nerve of them! I gritted my teeth. "Yes."

"Why did you call?" she questioned, feigning unwareness and everyone continued giggling.

"You very well know! Where are my clothes?" I yelled angrily. "I swear when I come back, I'll make you all pay for this!"

"Your clothes are at your house and it was just not my idea. The entire school plotted this prank including the teachers," she said and paused. "Especially the teachers."

I snapped, "Of course, they would."

"But believe me, this was fun---"

I hung up the call and plopped down on the bed with force. Clark was seated on the sofa with his laptop on his lap. He obviously overheard the conversation with all the yelling going on. He quietly turned his laptop towards me, an online shopping website open.