Love and Basketball Page #5

NONA:

I came second to the NBA. I'm not about

to come second to this bullshit scouting

job.

Zeke looks at her, offended.

NONA (cont'd)

I didn't mean it like that.

ZEKE:

Yeah.

NONA:

I'm just saying it'd be nice if you found

time for your family.

You should see the tramps coming after

Quincy. If you don't talk to him...

ZEKE:

I have.

A beat.

NONA:

You said you'd think about going back to

get your degree.

ZEKE:

No, you said I should get my degree. I

like my "bullshit" job, okay, and it's

gonna lead to a spot in the front office.

Til then, don't worry, there's just

enough savings to keep your ass in Gucci

and gold.

Livid, Nona pulls off her gold bracelet, throws it at him.

NONA:

Fine, then how many nights home is that?

ZEKE:

Keep your voice down.

She grabs a pair of gold earrings from her jewelry box, nails

him.

NONA:

How about now? I got a week yet?

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Quincy lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, as his parents

continue to have it out.

He rolls out of bed, pulls on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

He moves to his window, pulls it open and climbs out...

EXT. MCCALL AND WRIGHT HOUSES - CONTINUOUS

Quincy crosses the grass to Monica's window, knocks quietly.

Long beat, then Monica sleepily stumbles to her window,

wearing boxers and a tank top. She pushes it open and Quincy

pulls himself through...

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Now a routine, Monica tosses Quincy one of her pillows and

blankets, then crawls back into bed.

He lays out on the floor and closes his eyes. Monica casts a

long, sleepy glance at him, then drifts back to sleep.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - LATE DAY

Posters of Magic line three walls. A hand-made collage of

female college and Olympic ball-players fills the fourth.

The only real "soft" touch is the teddy bear laying on the

pillow.

Monica sits on the floor between Lena's legs, as Lena puts

Monica's hair in cornrows.

LENA:

That too tight?

MONICA:

No.

LENA:

Mom's going to hate it.

MONICA:

Always on my ass, anyway.

LENA:

Like you don't give her a hard time.

MONICA:

Just cause I don't kiss her booty like

you...

Lena yanks Monica's head back.

MONICA (cont'd)

Ow!!!

LENA:

You need to. She's alone in this house

all day, taking care of Dad and your

ungrateful behind.

MONICA:

No one's forcing her.

LENA:

Just try and chill a little bit, alright.

Monica doesn't answer. Lena yanks her head back again.

MONICA:

Ow!!! Okay!

They crack up.

LENA:

So what's going on with the Spring Dance?

You have a date yet?

MONICA:

(sarcastically)

Yeah, brothers are lined up at my locker.

LENA:

I found you someone.

MONICA:

Found? I'm not some charity case.

LENA:

I know...

MONICA:

Mom tell you to do this?

LENA:

No.

MONICA:

Damn, Lena...

(then)

Who is he?

LENA:

This brother from my college.

MONICA:

He's in college?

LENA:

And he's fine, girl.

MONICA:

How'd you get him to say yes?

LENA:

I told him you looked like me.

MONICA:

Oh, great.

LENA:

You do.

MONICA:

Yeah, right.

LENA:

If you were tore up I would not be

claiming you. Trust.

Monica is not convinced.

LENA (cont'd)

We'll do something cute with your hair,

get you a dress, get you some heels...

MONICA:

I don't know how to walk in heels.

LENA:

Hey. You just worry about playing your

behind off for that recruiter tonight.

Let me worry about your date.

Lena starts to braid Monica's hair again. Beat, then...

MONICA:

You ever been in love?

LENA:

Too many times.

MONICA:

They ever love you back?

LENA:

Yeah, once I cut them off. Why?

Monica just shrugs. Lena continues braiding.

EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - LATE DAY

Quincy and Zeke sweat through a playfully intense game of one-

on-one.

Quincy almost breaks Zeke's ankles with a cross-over dribble,

and leaves him in the dust. He stops under the basket, waves

for his Dad to come on before laying it up.

Zeke smiles, tells Quincy to bring that sh*t on again.

Quincy tries his cross-over again and this time Zeke picks

him clean.

Zeke taunts him as he easily backs in on him to the basket.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK

Camille stands at the stove, cooking up some yams. Monica

enters with a gym bag over her shoulder, dribbling her ball.

THE HOOD OF HER SWEATSHIRT COVERS HER HAIR.

CAMILLE:

Monica, please.

Monica stops.

MONICA:

Sorry.

(then)

I'm leaving.

Camille fills a spoon from the pot, holds it out.

CAMILLE:

Taste this.

MONICA:

I can't eat before a game.

CAMILLE:

Child, take a bite.

Monica sighs, takes a bite. It's good.

CAMILLE (cont'd)

I found some apricot chutney and mixed it

with the yams.

MONICA:

You really should be a caterer or

something like you used to say.

CAMILLE:

Sure. In between all the other things I

have to do.

She pulls off Monica's hood, then stops when she sees her

braids. Monica looks back defiantly.

MONICA:

What?

CAMILLE:

Nothing. So good luck.

She forces a smile, turns back to her cooking. Monica just

nods, and crosses out.

INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT

The championship game. The bleachers are almost filled.

Nathan and Lena sit, dead center. ALSO IN ATTENDANCE, COACH

CHERYL MILLER - THE COACH OF USC.

Quincy sits in the back row with a couple of teammates. As

always, he's the focus of much attention.

Monica and her teammates are crouched in a tight huddle,

surrounding Coach Hiserman.

COACH HISERMAN:

I don't have to tell you girls how big

this game is. We worked too damn hard

all season to leave without this

championship. So let's play smart...

(looks at Monica)

...let's play in control, and let's kick

some butt. Cougars on three.

Once...two...three.

TEAM:

Cougars!

As Monica moves to center court, she glances up at the USC

Coach, then at Quincy.

Monica takes a deep breath as she lines up for the opening

tip. An opposing player suddenly bumps her out of position.

Monica glares at her, but just moves over.

The ball is tossed up...

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. CRENSHAW GYM - NIGHT

Fourth quarter. One minute left. Cougars down three.

Monica dribbles down court, bouncing with confidence as her

opponent plays her tight.

Monica zips a no-look pass to a teammate, who lays it up.

Quincy punches one of his friends - "Oh sh*t!" She is having

the game of her life.

On the defensive end, Monica steals the ball. She drives the

length of the court, lays it up between two defenders. The

crowd is hyped.

Twenty seconds left, up by one. Monica hounds the opposing

guard as she brings up the ball.

Monica suddenly reaches in and knocks the ball loose. As she

goes for the ball, a WHISTLE.

REFEREE:

Reaching in, number thirty-two. One-and-

one.

Boos fill the gym. Monica's eyes widen.

MONICA:

No!

Anger rushes through her as she starts for the ref.

MONICA (cont'd)

That's bullsh--!

COACH HISERMAN:

Monica!

Monica catches herself, turns the word "sh*t" into a

frustrated yell as she quickly moves away from the ref.

Monica lines up for the free-throw, clenching her fists. The

girl hits the first one. Then, she hits the second.

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