Love and Basketball Page #4

His father, Zeke, now 39, stands on the sideline. His muscle

has softened a little over the last five years of retirement.

Monica sits alone in the bottom row, holding a basketball.

She wears jeans and a T-shirt and her hair is pulled back in

a simple pony-tail.

Quincy does a killer cross-over move and his Defender falls

down. He lays up the ball, then taunts the player he just

poster-ized. Behind Monica, TWO GIRLS smack each other

excitedly. One of them, SHAWNEE, 17, pretty, big chest,

slides down into the empty seat next to her.

SHAWNEE:

Hey, girl.

MONICA:

Hey.

SHAWNEE:

Your hair looks so cute like that.

Monica knows she's full of sh*t, doesn't respond.

SHAWNEE (cont'd)

So...you know who Q's asking to the

Spring Dance?

MONICA:

No.

SHAWNEE:

C'mon, girl, you live next door. Who's

been creeping?

MONICA:

There's so many I just can't keep track.

SHAWNEE:

Well, can you give him this for me?

Shawnee holds out a folded note. Monica doesn't take it.

MONICA:

Give it yourself.

SHAWNEE:

I don't wanna look fast.

(drops it in Monica's lap)

Thanks, girl.

She slides back to her seat. Monica shakes her head, turns

back to the game.

Quincy dives for a loose ball. Shawnee clutches her friend.

SHAWNEE (cont'd)

Good Lord, look at that ass. I just want

to lick the sweat off it.

Monica takes in his tight body. He does look good. Quincy

jogs back down court and flashbulbs go off...

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT

Flashbulbs. Quincy stands with his dad, his sweat still

fresh, talking to a reporter named JIM.

JIM:

Quincy, word has it you might make the

jump the NBA.

ZEKE:

Don't go starting rumors, Jim. My son's

college bound with or without basketball.

JIM:

You could make a career by telling me

where.

ZEKE:

Gotta wait til the press conference.

JIM:

But you'd love for him to play at USC,

like you did.

ZEKE:

I'd love for him to get a good education.

(then)

That's it.

Jim crosses away. Zeke puts an affectionate arm around his

son as they walk toward the locker room.

ZEKE (cont'd)

We should have another talk with Coach

Carril at Princeton.

QUINCY:

Pop, there's no way an Ivy League Team is

going all the way.

ZEKE:

I don't care about the team. I care

about the school.

QUINCY:

Didn't we already have this conversation?

Zeke sighs, then:

ZEKE:

You played good. I was proud of you.

Quincy smiles wide.

QUINCY:

Yeah?

(then)

So you up for a game later?

ZEKE:

I don't wanna hurt your feelings.

QUINCY:

You don't wanna hurt your back.

ZEKE:

(smiles)

Anyway, I gotta get to this meeting.

Tell your Mom I'm gonna be late.

QUINCY:

You work too hard, Pop.

ZEKE:

Let's hope I can say the same about you

one day.

Quincy watches his dad move toward the doors, stopping once

to give an autograph. Zeke passes Monica, entering.

MONICA:

Hey, Mr. M.

ZEKE:

Hey, Miss Baller.

He exits. Monica approaches Quincy.

MONICA:

Way to hoop.

QUINCY:

I know this. What do you want?

MONICA:

A ride home.

QUINCY:

Your legs don't look broke.

MONICA:

Look, big head, I'll be at your car.

QUINCY:

Guess "please" would be a stretch.

MONICA:

(dryly)

Please.

INT. QUINCY'S JEEP - NIGHT

Silence as Quincy wheels his Jeep Wrangler toward home.

Monica sits in the passenger seat, basketball in lap. She

pulls Shawnee's note from her pocket. Quincy glances it

over.

QUINCY:

What's that?

MONICA:

Some note Shawnee Easton told me to give

to you.

QUINCY:

(thinks)

Big-ass titties?

Monica shoots him a disgusted look. Quincy reaches out.

QUINCY (cont'd)

Give it here.

Monica leans away, reads aloud.

MONICA:

"Q. I think you are so fine and I've

been wanting to get with you. Let me

take you to the Spring Dance and I

promise I'll leave you satisfied."

Monica laughs in disbelief.

MONICA (cont'd)

What a ho.

QUINCY:

Why she gotta be a ho, just cause she

wants to get with me.

MONICA:

She's a ho cause she's sending her

coochie through the mail.

QUINCY:

And?

MONICA:

And? She's not saying, "I think you're a

nice guy and I wanna get to know you

better," she's saying, "I wanna bone."

QUINCY:

So she's honest.

MONICA:

Yeah, an honest tramp-ass ho. But I

guess you'll stick your dick in anything.

QUINCY:

Didn't know you cared so much.

MONICA:

I don't.

QUINCY:

So who you going to the dance with,

Spalding?

MONICA:

Who's Spalding?

Quincy looks down at the SPALDING BASKETBALL in her lap and

cracks up. Monica glares.

MONICA (cont'd)

F*** you, Quincy.

QUINCY:

See, that's why you ain't getting

recruited.

MONICA:

Who said I'm not getting recruited?

QUINCY:

Your hot-ass temper.

Monica points to the scar on her cheek.

MONICA:

I'm not the one who put this scar here.

QUINCY:

God, here we go.

MONICA:

When we were eleven years old cause he

was about to lose.

Quincy turns, faces her.

QUINCY:

That's it, give it your best shot.

MONICA:

Would you watch the damn road?

QUINCY:

I mean it, give it your best shot, cause

I'm tired of you holding that over my

head.

MONICA:

I'm warning you, don't tempt me.

QUINCY:

I'm warning you. You don't stall that

bad attitude, no one's gonna recruit you.

Quincy pulls his Jeep into his driveway.

MONICA:

Please, you jump in some guy's face, talk

smack and you get a pat on your ass. But

because I'm a female, I get told to calm

down and act like a "lady". I'm a

ballplayer, okay. A ball player.

QUINCY:

With a jacked-up attitude.

MONICA:

Didn't know you cared so much.

QUINCY:

I don't.

MONICA:

Good.

Monica slams out of the Jeep and walks across the lawn to her

house. Quincy exits his ride.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - ENTRY WAY - SHORT TIME LATER

Quincy steps inside, drops his bag on the floor. His mom,

Nona, approaches from the dining room.

QUINCY:

What's up, Moms.

Nona holds up a large hoop earring.

NONA:

What is this?

QUINCY:

Uh, your earring?

NONA:

I look like some hoochie to you? I

found it on your floor.

QUINCY:

What are you doing in my room?

Quincy crosses into:

INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

Nona follows. Quincy pulls open the fridge, grabs a couple

of slices of cold pizza.

NONA:

Quincy, I told you about these fat-ass

girls.

QUINCY:

We were just studying.

NONA:

I'm not playing with you, these girls are

looking to get you caught. They see you,

they see dollar signs.

QUINCY:

Okay.

NONA:

You hearing me?

QUINCY:

I've been hearing you.

Nona eyes her son, then lets up. She gives him a kiss.

NONA:

How was your game?

QUINCY:

Twenty-seven points, eleven assists and

still undefeated.

NONA:

Still the man.

QUINCY:

Yup.

Nona smiles, starts back the kitchen.

NONA:

Where's your dad?

QUINCY:

Said he'd be home later.

NONA:

Later when?

QUINCY:

I don't know, he had a meeting or

something.

Quincy exits to his room.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - ZEKE AND NONA'S ROOM - LATE NIGHT

Nona angrily rolls her hair as Zeke undresses.

ZEKE:

I had some players to see and hands to

shake.

NONA:

At one in the morning?

ZEKE:

I'm not gonna get anywhere punching a

clock just so my wife doesn't get an

attitude.

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