In The Unlikely Event [updates begin may 3]

16 | carrie underwood's revenge

a/n took me the longest time to write the chapter...and for why? anyway, vote, comment, follow and all the very fun stuff

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"You know, when I said light his ass on fire, I really did mean light his ass on fire."

"I know you did," I whispered aggressively, peaking around the corner to make sure the coast was clear before turning into the hallway. In my head, I was playing the role of some top-secret spy. "That's kinda the whole point of my modified plan."

Her words muffled by the skittles she'd forced us to make a pit stop for, she said, "Your modified plan that put a whole dampener on the plan."

"If it wasn't for my modified plan, Hakeem was never going to let us do this."

"Y'all are so boring--why are you whispering anyway?"

"Oh. Because--" I trapped my phone between my shoulder and my ear as I struggled to push the door open quietly. "I--I wanted to feel like a spy."

"I really want you to remind me again why I'm friends with you?"

"Uh...because," I said, finally wedging the door open with the additional force of my hip. "I'm the only person willing to let you camp out on my bed watching Netflix."

"Touche. You in the gym yet?" she asked, barely able to conceal the excitement in her voice.

Inside the gym, just past the nearly empty gray bleachers, my school's boys' basketball team were warming up and running through a couple of drills on their side of their court. Over to the sidelines, just by the score table, the coach's voice rose above the sound of squeaking shoes against the wooden floor, the boys calling out to each other, and the basketballs being dribbled to deliver plays to his players.

Taking a few minutes from my high stake mission, I watched as they ran, flawlessly, through a play built around off the ball screens and back cuts. They weren't as bad I'd always assumed, and I made a mental note to attend one of their future games as my eyes scanned the court for Conner's number. He'd really made my recon work easier this weekend, proudly displaying his jersey number in the bio of his Instagram while posing with the new Jeep his grandad had bought him a few months back.

Irritation and annoyance prickled at the back of my mind as I watched Conner bring up the ball with a couple other guys on a three on two fast-break drill. Faking for a long jumper, he drew the defender at the top of the key to him, taking an ample step around to find the guy cutting to the basket. The boys erupted in cheers, and with the lazy way he rolled his shoulders back, high fiving some guys down the line, I knew the praise was something he was used to.

"Ugh, I don't know why he's so cocky; he's not even that good."

"Mh...no, no, no. You only say that when someone you don't like is actually good."

"Well, I said what I said, and I'm taking my pettiness with me to the grave on this one." Hiding again behind the bleachers, I wanted to make sure to leave behind no connection whatsoever to lead back to us. Looking over to the scoreboard above the score table, I said, "Okay, it looks like we have about 45 minutes before the game starts. That should be enough time, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now get your ass back out here. We've got a beautiful Jeep to destroy, and I've been playing around with some ideas."

"You are literally the worst," I said as a farewell and tucked my phone into my pocket. Sparing a final glance back at the boys playing, I practically bouncing out the gym and down the hallway.

Parked outside, just beside Conner's Jeep and leaning against the backside of a gray car, Tamara waited. She dangled in my face the spare keys she'd brought along for me, and said as I reached her, "Let's create some beautiful art."