Love and Basketball Page #7

MONICA:

Wait...

JASON:

Shh. It's okay.

Naive and inexperienced, Monica shuts her eyes tight.

DISSOLVE TO:

E WRIGHT HOUSE -NIGHT

Jason's car pulls off, Monica slowly moves to her front door.

She looks in the living room window. Her mom is asleep in a

chair, trying to wait up.

Monica catches her reflection in the window. She glares at

her made-up face, then wipes at her mouth with her hand.

She steps back , walks to her bedroom window. She pulls it

open, kicks off her heels and climbs through.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Monica moves to her bed and drops down. She sits motionless

for a beat, then suddenly feels something beneath her. She

reaches for it. IT'S A LETTER FROM THE USC ATHLETIC

DEPARTMENT. Monica stares at it in her hands...

Light suddenly cuts through the darkness. Monica turns and

is surprised to see Quincy standing in the middle of his

room, pulling off his jacket. Monica moves to her window,

pulls it open.

MONICA:

Psst.

Quincy looks over. Beat. Then he climbs out of his window,

drops down.

EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - CONTINUOUS

MONICA:

Early night for you, isn't it?

QUINCY:

I was about to ask you the same thing,

going out with a college boy and all.

Monica doesn't respond.

QUINCY (cont'd)

So where'd you go after?

MONICA:

(beat)

Mulholland Drive.

QUINCY:

Figures.

MONICA:

So what dead-end street did you and

Shawnee hit?

QUINCY:

None of your business.

MONICA:

Well, I'm sure she kept her word and left

you satisfied.

QUINCY:

That what you think?

Monica shrugs.

QUINCY (cont'd)

Little after you left, I told Shawnee it

was time to go and I drove her ass

straight home. And after she told me I

was the dumbest brother in the world, I

took off.

MONICA:

Why?

QUINCY:

Cause I don't just stick my dick in

anything.

Monica takes this in.

MONICA:

I was sitting in Jason's ride with him

kissing on me and feeling on me and it

was really bugging me cause I couldn't

remember how many offensive boards I had

in the championship. And then I guess

she got tired of me sort of accidentally

kneeing him in the balls.

Beat, then Quincy cracks up. Monica laughs with him.

QUINCY:

Four.

MONICA:

What?

QUINCY:

You had four offensive rebounds.

Monica stares at him, surprised. She thinks.

MONICA:

Hold up for a second.

Monica disappears back inside. Beat, then she re-appears.

She climbs out her window, drops down. Quincy looks at her.

She holds out the envelope from USC.

QUINCY:

When'd you get this?

MONICA:

It was on my bed when I came in.

(then)

Can you just...?

QUINCY:

(beat)

You sure?

Monica nods. Quincy takes the envelope, sits down on the

grass. Monica sits down beside him. He tears open the

envelope and pulls out the letter.

Monica stares at him as he reads, trying to see an answer in

his face. Quincy finally looks up. Expressionless.

QUINCY (cont'd)

Damn girl...

Monica's face falls. And then, a slow smile spreads across

Quincy's face.

QUINCY (cont'd)

They want you.

Monica grabs the letter, reads. Her head just drops as a

tidal wave of relief washes over her.

Quincy smiles.

QUINCY (cont'd)

Congratulations.

Monica looks up, cheesing.

QUINCY (cont'd)

I'm gonna be there, too. I'm announcing

tomorrow.

MONICA:

I knew it.

Monica can't contain her excitement. Without thinking, she

gives Quincy a kiss. They pull away, then break into nervous

laughter.

QUINCY:

What was that about?

MONICA:

I know, right?

But they both want more. They lean in, kiss deeply. They

fall back on the grass. And kiss. And kiss.

Suddenly, Monica pulls away, sits up. Quincy follows,

instantly apologetic. Monica stares at him, then to his

surprise, she reaches over, gives his shirt a small tug with

her finger.

Quincy stares at her, then slowly pulls off his tie. He

nervously unbuttons his shirt. He fumbles with the last two

buttons.

Monica slowly pulls down the straps of her dress, self-

conscious. Quincy can't keep his eyes off her.

He pulls off his pants. Monica glances down and her eyes

widen. She looks scared to death. Quincy smiles softly,

leans in and gently kisses her. She relaxes. They lay down.

Quincy reaches into his pants for a condom. His hands shake

as he puts it on. They stare at each other as he moves on

top of her.

Quincy pushes inside her. She flinches back in pain. Quincy

immediately stops as tears spring to her eyes.

QUINCY:

(softly)

You want to stop?

Monica shakes her head. Quincy pushes inside again. He

looks down at her with tenderness, moves gently, kisses her

tears...

FADE TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

FOOTAGE. 1988-89 NBA Finals. Game SEVEN. The Lakers

against the Pistons. With seconds left, up by three, Magic

guards Isiah Thomas. They collide, no foul is called and the

Lakers win their second championship.

FADE IN:

TITLE CARD:
"THIRD QUARTER"

INT. USC - CAMPUS GYM - MORNING

Championship banners hang from the ceiling.

TWELVE YOUNG WOMEN sit on the first two rows of bleachers.

The eight upperclassmen kick back in the second row,

comfortable, confident. Monica and the three other freshmen

sit in front of them, jiggling nervously.

COACH MILLER stands in front of the team.

COACH MILLER:

I don't know some of you very well yet,

and you don't know me because I'm still

being nice to you.

Laughter from the upperclassmen.

COACH MILLER (cont'd)

But my philosophy is simple. Hard work

and sacrifice.

There's a lot of basketball history and

pride here at USC, but just putting on

the cardinal and gold doesn't make you a

great player. Hard work and sacrifice

makes you a great player. What you were

doesn't matter anymore. For the first

time in your life, you won't be the best.

You'll be going up against women that are

bigger and stronger and better than you

ever imagined. So the question is, how

will you respond? Well, your answer

better be hard work and sacrifice because

that's the only way you're gonna make it

through. Vince Lombardi preached it and

I teach it, "There is only one way to

succeed at anything and that is to give

everything."

Coach Miller pauses a moment to let her words sink in.

Monica glances at her fellow freshman for their reactions.

Like her, a lot of cockiness, a lot of fear.

COACH MILLER (cont'd)

A few simple rules. Eleven o'clock

curfew, no exceptions. Always be on

time, no exceptions. Attend every class,

no exceptions. No drugs, no alcohol, no

getting pregnant. And finally, respect

yourselves, respect your coaches and

respect your teammates, right Sidra?

SIDRA, senior point guard, nods from the second row.

SIDRA:

That's right, Coach.

COACH MILLER:

By the end of this year some of you will

hate me...

The upperclassmen crack up.

COACH MILLER (cont'd)

Some of you will want to go home...

UPPERCLASSMEN:

(cat-calling)

Cree!

CREE, junior forward, ducks her head sheepishly. Coach

Miller smiles.

COACH MILLER:

But I guarantee you, if you work hard and

sacrifice, all of you will be better

basketball players and better people.

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