Sahara's pov

I was all done with the makeover, and it was time to go back home. I struggled a bit at first, for having to wear 6 inch high heels, but after walking a few rounds, I got used to it.

When I got back home, JB was sitting on the couch in the main living room, watching Spongebob.Okay then. I tried to sneak into the kitchen without him noticing, but my stupid heels were too loud (I didn't want to take them off because they were too hard to put on and take off) as I walked by him, he glared at me with hostile eyes, but oh my gosh, he looked so good! Everything from his face to what he was wearing.

"S-sorry, did I surprise you?" I stammer.

He quickly checks me out from head to toe, and then stares at me face hard, with his eyes squinting a bit. I felt me face burn up during that time. Why doesn't he say anything! Why was he looking at me like that?!

"Why are you wearing shoes inside the house?" he asks

"Oh, uh, because they're a hassle to take off and put on, and we'll be leaving in about 15-30 minutes anyway so..."

"Ya whatever, just don't fall or anything. It looks like your standing on a platform."

Wow! Is he showing concern by chance or am I thinking too much? If he is, then that would be a first. 

A smile accidently creep out.

"What'r you smiling for?" He questions.

"Nothing at all," I say smiling as I head into the kitchen.

"Oh wait! I forgot to tell you, umm, well you know at the party today?" I say reluctantly,

"Yes," he replies.

"Well, we kinda have to act like we don't hate each other so..."

"And do you expect me to act like I'm in love with you or something?" he raises his voice.

"No! of course not! It would just be appreciated if we could act like we don't hate each other, like a normal c-couple just this once, or we could get in trouble." I say, twitching at the word 'couple'

Getting those words out of me was a milestone for me. I was shaking like crazy during the whole time, but doing this could possibly save our family's reputation, and I was desperate. Desperate times comes desperate measures. 

He checked me out again, but this time faster, and went back to watching Spongebob, without a response.

"So was that a yes?" I ask. You could probably here the desperation in my voice.

After I question him, he looks away from the T.V and glares at me again, but this time his glare was stronger.

"Okay, sorry, I'll leave," I say exasperated. There was to point in talking sense to the guy.