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Love & Basketball (2000)

by Gina Prince-Bythewood.

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY


OPENING TITLES

SLOW MOTION.  STYLIZED.  TIGHT.

The silhouette of a man and woman.  They are on a blacktop
basketball court, playing a sexually-charged game of one-one-
one.

Sweat glistens.  Hands pull at clothes.  Hips bump and
collide.  Eyes lock...

								FADE TO:

BLACK.

FADE IN:

TITLE CARD: "FIRST QUARTER" then "1981"

BALDWIN HILLS

EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - LATE MORNING

An upper middle-class neighborhood, known as the Black
Beverly Hills.  Big houses, green grass and Caddies in every
other driveway.  The street is quiet, until --

			YOUNG VOICE (O.S.)
	You wanna be Kareem?

CAMERA REVEALS: QUINCY MCCALL, eleven years old, dribbling a
basketball in front of KELVIN and JAMAL, also eleven.  He
sports a fro, a "Clippers" jersey, and a serious swagger.

			QUINCY (CONT'D)
	All his big butt do is stand by the
	basket.

			JAMAL
	Shoot, I'll be blocking your stuff.

			KELVIN
	I'm gonna be like Dr. J.

			QUINCY
	I'ma be like my Dad.

			JAMAL
	He ain't a star or nothing.

			QUINCY
	I don't see none of your sorry daddies in
	the NBA.

			KELVIN
	Hey, look, Q.

Quincy follows Kelvin's eyes, to a beat-up pair of Converse
All-Stars approaching from next door.  Walking in the kicks
is a YOUNG KID in a T-shirt and Tuff-skins, and a LAKERS cap
pulled low.  A moving van is parked in the driveway.

			KELVIN (cont'd)
	Thought only girls were moving in.

			QUINCY
	That's what my Moms said.

			KELVIN
	I hope he can ball.

			JAMAL
	Bet he's a scrub.

The Kid stops at the edge of Quincy's driveway.

			KID
	Hey.

			QUINCY
	Hey.

			KID
	Can I play?

			QUINCY
	You nice?

			KID
	Yeah, I'm nice.

Quincy looks the Kid up and down, then --

			QUINCY
	You and Kelvin gainst me and Jamal.

Quincy tosses the Kid the ball.  The Kid pulls off the
baseball cap.  Brown hair tumbles down, framing a soft brown
face and bright eyes.  She is MONICA WRIGHT, eleven years
old.

			JAMAL
	Ah man, he is a girl.

			QUINCY
	Girls can't play no ball.

			MONICA
	Ball better than you.

Quincy laughs derisively as Monica walks to the top of the
driveway.

			QUINCY
		(whispering)
	What a dog.

Monica shoots him a glare.

			JAMAL
	She heard you.

			QUINCY
	Nuh uh, they could only hear dog
	whistles.

Monica starts to dribble.  Jamal whistles as he walks
backwards, guarding her.  She throws up a shot.  IT'S AN
AIRBALL.  Quincy and Jamal crack up.  Kelvin rolls his eyes.

Quincy grabs the rebound and shoots.  Swish.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	One, zip.

He rolls the ball to Monica.  She starts dribbling and again,
Jamal just backs up with her.  She passes to Kelvin.  Jamal
and Quincy collapse on him, leaving Monica open under the
basket.  Trapped Kelvin has no choice but to pass it back.

Monica catches the ball and throws up a shot.  It banks off
the backboard...AND DROPS THROUGH THE NET.  The boys look at
her in shock.  Monica tosses the ball back to Quincy.

			MONICA
	One, up.

			QUINCY
	Lucky.

Quincy easily dribbles by Kelvin and lays up the ball.  He
throws the ball back to Monica.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Two, one.

Monica dribbles.  Jamal plays her a little tighter.  Monica
bounces the ball through his open legs and lays up the ball.

			MONICA
	Two, up.

Quincy can't believe it.  Kelvin cracks up.

			KELVIN
	Aaah, she dogged you.

			JAMAL
	Shut up.

The game continues, with Quincy and Monica trading baskets
for their teams.  Quincy grows agitated with Jamal, who is
unable to stop her.  The score hits nine, nine.

Quincy stands at the top of the driveway, ball in hand.

			QUINCY
	Point.

Quincy dribbles through his legs, then pops an outside shot.
The ball bounces on the rim...and rolls off.

Quincy curses as Monica grabs the rebound and clears the
ball.  Jamal moves to guard her, but Quincy shoves him off.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	I got her.

Quincy defends.  Monica smiles back at him.

			MONICA
	Told you I was nice.  I'm going to be
	the first girl in the NBA.

			QUINCY
	I'ma be in the NBA.  You're gonna be my
	cheerleader.

Monica suddenly passes to Kelvin, sprints for the basket.
Quincy stumbles, giving her a step.  Kelvin throws it back.

Quincy knows he's beat as Monica goes for the winning lay-up.
In desperation, he swings at her for the hard foul, shoving
her off balance.

THE BALL FLIES FROM HER HAND AS SHE CRASHES TO THE GROUND,
FACE-FIRST.  SHE GRABS HER CHEEK.  BLOOD SLIPS THROUGH HER
FINGERS.

The boys stand frozen.  Quincy stares down at her, his eyes
wide with fear...and regret.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - BATHROOM - LATE MORNING

Monica leans over the sink as her mother, CAMILLE, 36, wipes
the blood from her face with a washcloth.

			GIRL'S VOICE (O.S.)
	Eeew.

Her sister, LENA, 14, leans in the doorway, making a face.
She is a mirror of their mother, with relaxed hair and
painted nails.

Her father, NATHAN, 39, moves behind Lena, holding a box.

			NATHAN
	How are you feeling, munchkin?

Monica nods.  He smiles.

			NATHAN (cont'd)
	Yeah, you're through.

			CAMILLE
	She needs to stop running around like a
	little boy.

			NATHAN
	She's alright.

			CAMILLE
	How is she alright looking the way she
	does?

			NATHAN
	Camille, she'll be fine.

He gives Monica a wink, crosses away.  Monica pulls the
washcloth away from her Mom and starts wiping the blood
herself.

			CAMILLE
	I'll get some ice.

She exits.  Lena shakes her head, follows.

Monica pulls the washcloth from her face and stares into the
mirror.  TORN SKIN SURROUNDS A SMALL DEEP GASH IN HER CHEEK.
Seeing her latest battle scar, there's only one thing left
for this little girl to do.  She smiles.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Quincy sits at the kitchen table, writing "I AM SORRY" in
block letters across a homemade card.  His face is tight with
concentration as he tries to write in a straight line.

At the counter, his mom, NONA, moves a cake from its store
box to a cake dish.  She is 30, beautiful, with effort.  She
smooths the frosting with a spoon.

ZEKE, 32, with the height and ego of an NBA ballplayer,
enters.  He laughs.

			ZEKE
	Girl, who you trying to fool?

Quincy looks up, smiles.  He quickly grabs a piece of
crumpled paper, and tosses it to Zeke.

			QUINCY
	Alley-oop, Dad.

Nona intercepts his pass.

			NONA
	Boy...

She points him back to his card.  Quincy scowls, starts
writing again.  Nona scoops some frosting on her finger,
holds it up.

			NONA (cont'd)
	New neighbors.

Zeke wraps his lips around her finger, sucks the frosting
off.

			ZEKE
	See, Quincy, this is how your Moms caught
	me, with the old fake and bake.  Had me
	thinking I was getting a sister who could
	burn.

Nona laughs, pulls him down for a kiss.  Quincy suddenly
throws down his pencil in frustration.

			QUINCY
	I can't do this shit.

Zeke and Nona pull away, stare at Quincy in shock.

			ZEKE
	Boy, what'd I tell you about using that
	word?

			QUINCY
		(sighs, then)
	"Can't" should never be in a man's
	vocabulary.

			ZEKE
	Why not?

			QUINCY
	Cause when you say can't, you ain't a
	man.

			ZEKE
	That's right.

			NONA
	Zeke.

			ZEKE
	What?
		(then)
	Oh, and, uh, don't say "shit."

Nona just shakes her head.

			NONA
	We should head over.

			ZEKE
	Just you and Quincy, baby.  I got a
	meeting.

			NONA
	With who?

			ZEKE
	Business folks.

			NONA
	You just got back from a four game road
	trip.

			ZEKE
	Nona, don't start bitching.  I got maybe
	two years left to play.  I'm just trying
	to put some things together for us.

Zeke grabs his keys.

			ZEKE (cont'd)
	Later, Quincy.

			QUINCY
	Later, Dad.

Zeke exits.  Nona leans against the counter, concerned.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Mom?

			NONA
	What?

			QUINCY
	We still have to go?

			NONA
		(beat)
	Yeah.
	
	
 INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY



Camille and Nona stand among the piles of boxes.  Monica and
Quincy stand at their mothers' sides, stealing glances at
each other.  A large bandage covers Monica's cheek.  Monica
holds her card, Camille holds the cake.

			NONA
	...we moved back here when Quincy was
	about five, after Zeke was traded.
	Neighborhood was a little more mixed
	back then...

			CAMILLE
	Until the Black family down the street
	became the Black family next door.

			NONA
		(nods)
	Okay?

Camille tries to smooth down Monica's unruly hair.  Monica
moves her head.

			CAMILLE
	Well, thanks again.  This was really nice
	of you.

			NONA
	It was the least we could do.  And I love
	to cook.

Quincy looks up at his Mom, surprised.  She quickly hugs his
face into her stomach.  Camille lights up.

			CAMILLE
	Oh, me too.  I used to cook for my
	friends' parties and things back in
	Atlanta.

			NONA
	You're a caterer?

			CAMILLE
	Well, no, but once Nathan gets settled
	and the girls get a little older, it's
	definitely something I want to do.
		(then)
	Since you love to cook, maybe it's
	something we can talk about.

Quincy snickers.  Nona quickly changes the subject.

			NONA
	You know, girl, long as I've lived next
	door, I've never seen the inside of this
	house.

			CAMILLE
	Really?  Well, come on, then.

Camille hands Monica the cake.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	Honey, put this in the kitchen.

			NONA
	Help her, Quincy.

Camille and Nona head down the hall, leaving Monica and
Quincy alone.  The two just stand there.

Quincy reaches out, scoops a finger of frosting, and pops it
in his mouth.  Beat, then Monica takes a bigger scoop.

			QUINCY
	So...does it hurt?

			MONICA
	It's this big hole.  You could almost see
	bone.

			QUINCY
	For real?

			MONICA
	Uh huh.

Quincy is impressed.

			QUINCY
	So how come you could play basketball?

			MONICA
	I just can.

			QUINCY
	I never knew a girl that could play.

			MONICA
	My Mom says she doesn't know where I come
	from 'cause I act different.

			QUINCY
	Your Dad play?

			MONICA
	He works at a bank.

			QUINCY
	My Dad plays for the "Clippers."  He says
	I'ma be a doctor or a lawyer, but I'ma
	play for them, too.  Same number and
	everything.

			MONICA
	I'm going to be number thirty-two, like
	Magic.

			QUINCY
	He's alright, but my Dad can take him.

			MONICA
	What was the most points your Daddy ever
	got in Junior High?

			QUINCY
	I don't know.  A lot.

			MONICA
	One time Magic scored forty-eight points,
	and they only had six minute quarters and
	he sat out the whole fourth.

			QUINCY
	You do act different.

			MONICA
	I don't care.

			QUINCY
	Well, if anybody bothers you, you could
	just tell me cause I run this street.

			MONICA
	I'd just tell my sister, Lena.

			QUINCY
	She don't know how to box, I bet.  My dad
	showed me how to fight like Ali.

He shows off a flurry of punches.

			MONICA
	So, I know karate from "Almighty Isis."

Monica puts the cake down on a box, does a couple of kicks
and hand movements.  Quincy is impressed.

			QUINCY
	Bet you can't do this though.

Quincy does a jump kick.  Monica does the same.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Okay, how bout this?

Quincy takes a couple steps back, then does a cartwheel.  It
looks great, until he crashes into the box with the cake.
The cake falls onto his head and shoulder.

Monica doubles over, laughing.  Quincy is embarrassed.
Camille and Nona rush back into the living room.

			CAMILLE
	Monica, what did you do?

			MONICA
	Nothing.

			CAMILLE
		(to Nona)
	Oh, all that work.

			NONA
	It's...it's okay.  Can I get a towel?

Camille quickly crosses into the kitchen.  Quincy stares at
the floor.

			QUINCY
	Sorry.

Nona bends down, whispers in his ear.

			NONA
	No.  Good boy.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT

Monica sits between Lena's legs, grimacing, as Lena works a
comb through her freshly washed, kinky hair.  Monica's head
flops like a rag doll.  Her eyes are wet.

			MONICA
	Ow!

Lena keeps tugging.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Ow, Lena!!!

Monica punches her in the leg.

			LENA
	Ow!

Lena yanks Monica's head back as Camille enters, carrying a
yellow dress on a hanger.  Monica sees it and her face falls.

			MONICA
	Ah, Mom.

			CAMILLE
	I'm lucky I found it.  Someone put your
	box of dresses under a pile of rags in
	the garbage.

Monica sulks.  Lena cackles in her ear.  Camille has to
laugh.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	Child, pick up your lip.

			MONICA
	I hate it.

			CAMILLE
	Fine, you don't like this one, which one
	would you rather wear?

			MONICA
	Pants.

Camille rubs her temples, then hangs the dress on the door.

			CAMILLE
		(to Lena)
	When you're done can you make sure she
	brushes her teeth?

			LENA
	Are you okay?

			CAMILLE
	I just need to lay down.  I've been
	running around all day.

Just then, Nathan enters.  He holds up two dress shirts as if
it were a matter of life and death.

			NATHAN
	Which one for tomorrow?

			CAMILLE
	The blue.

			NATHAN
	You sure?

Camille nods.  Nathan looks at both of them, then:

			NATHAN (cont'd)
	Can you iron both tonight just in case?

			CAMILLE
		(beat)
	Okay.

			NATHAN
	Thanks, sweetheart.

He kisses her on the cheek, hands her the two shirts and
crosses out.  Monica just watches.  Beat, then Camile turns
back to her daughters.

			CAMILLE
	The boy next door is riding with you to
	school so you'll know somebody your first
	day.
		(to Lena)
	Hurry so she can go to sleep.

Monica reacts, surprised.  Camille leaves.  Lena puts the
comb back to Monica's hair.  Beat, then:

			MONICA
	Make it look nice, kay.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

Basketball posters, "Clippers" and USC memorabilia, a
basketball globe light.

Quincy lays tucked in bed, eyes wide open, listening to his
parents MAKING LOVE.  The sounds bring a smile to his face.

Quincy climbs out of bed, wearing underwear.  He moves to his
window, sees Monica through her window directly across from
his.  Her eyes are closed as Lena braids her hair.  Quincy
kneels down, rests his arms on the window sill, and watches.


 EXT. MCCALL AND WRIGHT HOUSES - MORNING



Quincy sits atop his BMX bike in front of Monica's house.  A
basketball is tucked under his arm.

Monica emerges, walking her banana-seater.  She is looking
cute in her yellow dress and braids tied with ribbons.  A
basketball sits in her back basket.

Quincy is taken aback, stares at her.

			QUINCY
	You wanna be my girl?

Monica blinks in surprise.  She thinks for a moment.

			MONICA
	What do I have to do?

			QUINCY
	I guess, you know, we play ball and we
	ride to school together.  And if you get
	mad at me, I gotta give you flowers.

			MONICA
	I don't like flowers.

			QUINCY
	Oh.

			MONICA
	How bout Twinkies?  My mom won't ever
	buy them.

			QUINCY
	Kay.

			MONICA
	Okay.

An awkward beat between the new couple.  Finally --

			QUINCY
	I think we gotta kiss now.

			MONICA
	For how long?

			QUINCY
	Five seconds.

The two glance around, then climb off their bikes and walk to
the secluded area between their two houses.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Ready?

Monica nods.  They lean in, eyes wide open, and touch lips.
Quincy counts to five with his fingers.  They pull away,
embarrassed, and walk back to the driveway.

Monica lifts her bike from the ground and climbs on.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Wait.  Cause you're my girl now you
	gotta ride my bike.

			MONICA
	I want to ride my own bike.

			QUINCY
	My Dad always drives my Mom.

			MONICA
	So?

			QUINCY
		(impatient)
	So that means I have to ride with you.

Monica doesn't move.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Come on.

			MONICA
	I don't have to do what you say.

			QUINCY
	Man, forget you then, stupid.

			MONICA
	You're stupid.  And your Daddy plays for
	the worst team in the NBA.

Quincy's face instantly clouds.

			QUINCY
	What?

			MONICA
		(laughs)
	Last time they won, Dr. J. was a nurse.

			QUINCY
	Shut up!

He shoves her, knocking her off her bike.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	I don't wanna be your boyfriend, you ugly
	dog!

Monica leaps up, her dress now dirty.  She shoves him back.

			MONICA
	I don't want to be your girlfriend, big
	head!

They grapple, then fall to the ground swinging...

								FADE TO:

BLACK.

FOOTAGE.  Men's NCAA Finals.  Michigan State against Indiana
State.  Magic Johnson against Larry Bird.  Magic drives on
Bird, hits a beautiful scoop shot.  He celebrates as he jogs
back down court...

 FADE IN:



TITLE CARD: "SECOND QUARTER" then "1988"



INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - DAY



A snarling Black cougar glares down from a large mural.  On

the court below, a girl's basketball play-off game.

The bleachers are almost half-full with a hyped crowd.  In
the crowd are Monica's parents.  Her father is excited and
vocal.  Her mom reads a book.  Also in the stands, the HEAD
COACH OF THE TENNESSEE LADY VOLS, PAT SUMMIT.

A fine-ass BROTHER leans in the doorway, sporting a letter
jacket with an embroidered "Q" on the chest.  He gets as much
attention as the game.  A couple of JUNIOR VARSITY
CHEERLEADERS smile his way.

			CHEERLEADERS
	"U", "G", "L", "Y", you ain't got no
	alibi, you ugly, yeah, yeah, you ugly.
	"M", "A", "M", "A", how you think you got
	that way, your Mama, yeah, yeah, your
	Mama.

On the floor, MONICA, dribbles down court.  Just EIGHTEEN,
her athletic figure has a few curves, but her loose jersey
does little to show it off.  Her hair is a mess and her knees
are dark with bruises.  A small scar is visible on her cheek.

She whips a no-look, around the back pass to a cutting
TEAMMATE under the basket, who scores.  The crowd cheers.

Monica defends the opposing point guard like a gnat.  She
knocks the ball loose and grabs it up.  She goes for a lay-up
and the opposing guard steps in front of her.  Monica crashes
into her, knocking both to the floor.

A WHISTLE.

			REFEREE
	No basket!  Offensive foul, number thirty-
	two.

Monica leaps up.

			MONICA
	What?  She wasn't set!

The referee ignores her.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	She was still moving!

From the sideline, COACH HISERMAN waves frantically.

			COACH HISERMAN
	Monica!  Let it go!

Monica stares down the ref as she jogs back on defense.

The opposing guard drives the lane and puts up a shot.
Monica leaps and blocks it with a taunting scream.  A
WHISTLE.

			REFEREE
	Technical foul!  Number thirty-two.

Coach Hiserman slams down his clipboard.  Monica charges the
referee.  A teammate grabs at her but she pushes her off.

			MONICA
	For what?

			REFEREE
	Taunting.

			MONICA
	Taunting?!

			COACH HISERMAN
	Sub!

			MONICA
	Man, you suck!

The referee whips back around, whistle in mouth.  Coach
Hiserman grabs her arm and pulls her off the court.

			COACH HISERMAN
	Sit down and shut up.

Monica slams down in a chair, sweat pouring, hands clenched.
Her mom watches from the stands, completely embarrassed.  The
brother in the doorway turns, leaves.

Monica looks up at the clock.  SIX MINUTES LEFT IN THE THIRD
QUARTER.

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - LATE DAY

Monica, still benched, sits slumped in her chair, her sweats
on, her face dry.  She glances up at the clock.  TWENTY
SECONDS LEFT IN THE FOURTH QUARTER.  Her team's up by SIX.

Her teammates dribble out the clock.  The BUZZER SOUNDS and
they dance across the floor.  Monica looks up in the stands.
COACH SUMMIT IS GONE.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - DUSK

Camille, now forty-three, stands at the stove stirring a pot
of gumbo.  Lena, 21, and pretty, stands next to her, holding
a handful of plates and silverware.

			CAMILLE
	...and if you want a thicker base, you
	can cut in a potato or just use a little
	flour.

			LENA
	But you use potato?

Camille nods as they cross into:

INT. DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

At the table, Monica is in mid-conversation with her dad.
Camille and Lena start setting the table.

			MONICA
	Dad, you have to talk to Coach for me.

			NATHAN
	And what am I supposed to say to the man?

			MONICA
	The coach from Tennessee was there and he
	has me riding the bench.

			NATHAN
	You lost your head.

			MONICA
	I was just showing emotion.

			CAMILLE
	So that means it's alright for you to act
	like that?

			LENA
		(to Monica)
	What'd you do?

			MONICA
		(dismissive)
	nothing.

			CAMILLE
	I don't know why I keep hoping you'll
	grow out of this tomboy thing.

			MONICA
	I won't.  I'm a lesbian.

Lena chokes on her drink, cracks up.

			CAMILLE
	That's not funny

			MONICA
	Well, that's what you think, isn't it?
	Cause I'd rather wear a jersey than an
	apron...

			CAMILLE
	Watch your mouth.

Nathan quickly jumps in, tries to clean things up.

			NATHAN
	Monica, I think her point is...maybe it's
	time to start thinking about other things
	besides basketball.

			MONICA
		(taken aback)
	What?

			NATHAN
	You only have one game left and you
	haven't been recruited.  Munchkin, I
	wanted it as bad as you did, but we have
	to face reality.

			MONICA
	The coach from USC is going to be at the
	championship.

			NATHAN
	I know.  But chances are...

			MONICA
	Chances are there's still a chance.

Nathan nods.  She can always soften her dad, but not her mom.

			CAMILLE
	If you'd just listen for once, you'd
	realize you have a lot more going for
	yourself.  You're smart, you'd be pretty
	if you put a comb to your head.  I mean,
	why walk around with your hair looking
	like "whodunit"...?

As her mom nags on, Monica looks out the window.

OUTSIDE, QUINCY and a GIRL lean against a car parked at the
curb, slobbing each other down.

Just shy of 18, with a magnetic face and muscular body, he is
a brother who drank his chocolate milk.  HE IS ALSO THE
BROTHER WHO WAS WATCHING MONICA'S GAME FROM THE GYM DOORWAY.

Monica watches and her mom's droning voice disappears...

EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - SAME TIME

FELICIA, 17, can't get enough of Quincy's lips.

			QUINCY
	Yo, Felicia, I gotta get to my game.

She keeps kissing him.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	And my mom's about to be home.

			FELICIA
	So I'm not good enough to meet your mom?

			QUINCY
	Girl, she knew I had a hottie like you
	up inhere, she'd beat the black off me.

			FELICIA
		(kissing him again)
	That's a lot of beating.

She finally lets go, and slides into her car.  Quincy watches
her go with a cocky-ass smile.


 INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - NIGHT



A frenzied crowd from floor to ceiling watches Quincy explode

across the court.  He is the complete point guard - hitting
from the outside, driving to the hoop, no-look passes,
playing tight D.'

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 shit, 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)
	Fuck 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.

			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 shit 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 shit!"  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 "shit" 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.

With ten seconds left, down by one, Monica drives down court
and throws up a prayer.  EVERYONE IS ON THEIR FEET AS THE
BALL SPINS AROUND THE RIM.  AND THEN...IT POPS OUT.  An
opposing player grabs the rebound and Monica has no choice
but to foul her.

Monica has just fouled out.  She walks to her bench and drops
down.  She buries her face in a towel and sobs.

The buzzer goes off.  Cougars lose.

Quincy stares at Monica, feeling almost as bad as she does.

							DISSOLVE TO:
						      
						      
 INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT



Monica sits slumped on her bed in a bathrobe, as Lena stands

in front of her, putting the finishing touches on Monica's

make-up.



			LENA

	Might help if you didn't look so evil.
        
			MONICA
	I don't even want to go.

She steps back, looks at her work.

			LENA
	Mom!
        
Beat, then Camille enters.

			LENA (cont'd)
	Talk to me.

Camille stares at her daughter, taken aback by how great she
looks.

			CAMILLE
	Go in my top drawer and get my pearls.

Lena exits.  Monica still looks miserable.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	You okay?

Monica shrugs.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	Well, can you promise me one thing?

			MONICA
	What?

			CAMILLE
	Tonight, don't worry about yesterday's
	game, the recruiters, or anything else.
	I just want you to enjoy being beautiful.
	Will you do that?

Monica takes this in as Lena returns with Camille's pearls.

			LENA
	Here.

Camille puts them around Monica's neck.  Monica looks back at
her.

			MONICA
	You really think I look beautiful?

Camille smiles at her daughter, nods.  Monica touches the
pearls.

INT. CRENSHAW GYM - NIGHT

An R&B song jams through the speakers, filling the dance
floor with high school kids in suits and dresses.

In the middle of the floor, Quincy gets his groove on with
his date, Shawnee.  She dances so provocatively, there is no
mistaking what she has in mind for later.

Over at the doors, Monica enters with her college date,
JASON, 21, and fine.  Heads turn in surprise.  Monica feels
the stares, shifts nervously.

			JASON
	Can I take your coat?

			MONICA
	You're cold?

Monica starts to pull it off.

			JASON
	No, I mean I can check it for you.

			MONICA
		(embarrassed)
	Oh, sorry.

Jason pulls off her coat, revealing a dress that shows off
everything Monica has been hiding.  He checks out her frame,
smiles.

			JASON
	Your sister wasn't lying.

He crosses to the coat check, leaving her alone.

ANGLE ON

Quincy, who glances over from the middle of the dance floor,
and abruptly stops.  He stares at Monica in shock.

			QUINCY
	Oh...shit.

Quincy starts off the floor as a new song kicks in.

			SHAWNEE
	Q, I like this song...

ANGLE ON

Monica, sees Quincy approaching in his suit.  She quickly
steadies herself on her heels, brushes a curl from her face.

			QUINCY
	See you made it.

			MONICA
	Yeah.

			QUINCY
	You don't look half-bad.

			MONICA
	You either.

Jason returns.  Quincy looks at him, surprised.

			JASON
	What's up, Black.  I'm Jason.

			QUINCY
	Q.

Shawnee suddenly steps up, slides her arms around Quincy.

			SHAWNEE
	Dang, girl, I didn't know Nike made
	dresses.

Monica looks at Shawnee, wrapped around Quincy.  She can't
believe it.

			MONICA
	Guess we'll see you later.

Monica heads into the crowd with her college man.  Quincy
watches her go.

INT. CRENSHAW HIGH SCHOOL GYM - LATER

Monica sits at a table with Jason.  His arm lays casually
across the back of her chair.  Monica sits upright, stiff.

			JASON
	So, you like school?

Monica smiles nervously, nods.

			JASON (cont'd)
	Yeah, high school was cool.  I don't
	remember sisters being as fine as you,
	though.

Monica just holds that nervous smile.

			JASON (cont'd)
	So what do you like studying?

			MONICA
	Gym.

He waits for more, but nothing comes.

			JASON
	I'm an English major.  You like English?

			MONICA
	Sort of.

			JASON
	Careful.

			MONICA
	Huh?

			JASON
	That was two words.

Monica ducks her head, embarrassed.  Jason laughs.

			JASON (cont'd)
	Girl, how come you're so stressed?

			MONICA
	Sorry.

			JASON
	I mean, I'm having a good time with
	you...

His arm slides off the back of her chair and onto her
shoulders.

			JASON (cont'd)
	So tell me what I have to do to make you
	have a good time with me.

			MONICA
	My mouth is kinda dry.

			JASON
	Then I'll get you some punch.

He stands, then.

			JASON (cont'd)
	Just don't jet while I'm gone and leave a
	glass slipper behind.

Monica's face lights up.  Jason smiles.

			JASON (cont'd)
	There we go.

He crosses away to the refreshment table.  Monica smiles
wider, leans back in her chair with her legs splayed.  She
catches herself and quickly crosses them.

A couple of guys pass by and check her out.  Monica smiles
wider.  Quincy steps up, holding two cups of punch.

			QUINCY
	Hey.

			MONICA
	Hey.

			QUINCY
	You having fun?

			MONICA
	Yeah.

			QUINCY
	Yeah, the DJ's kinda whack, though.
		(beat)
	So who is this clown?

			MONICA
	He ain't Spalding.

			QUINCY
	Guess not.

			MONICA
	So you took Shawnee, huh?

The DJ puts on "Make It Last Forever" by Keith Sweat.
Couples move to the dance floor.

			QUINCY
		(embarrassed)
	You know, it was late and she asked...

			JASON
	You want to dance?

Jason stands behind her chair.  Monica smiles shyly.

			MONICA
	Sure.

Jason puts down her cup of punch, takes her hand, leads her
to the dance floor.

Quincy just shakes his head, then crosses to his table, grabs
Shawnee's hand.

			QUINCY
	C'mon.

He pulls Shawnee to the middle of the floor.

ANGLE ON

Monica, nervous at first, a little awkward, but Jason gently
guides her in a slow circle and she starts to relax.

Jason moves his hands down Monica's back, pulling her in
closer.  Shawnee snuggles into Quincy's chest, runs her hands
down his neck.  The heat from bodies grows.

Monica and Quincy glance up at the same time and catch each
other's eyes.  They start to look away but find they can't.
Eyes locked as they dance, they move together, almost feel
each other.  Finally, as their bodies turn, they lose sight.

Monica puts her head to Jason's chest, Quincy slides his
hands lower down Shawnee's back.  The music continues...

INT. JASON'S CAR - NIGHT

Jason and Monica are parked up on Mulholland Drive.  LL Cool
J's "I Need Love" plays on the tape deck.

Jason has his arm around Monica, ready to make his move.

			MONICA
		(rattling)
	Freshman year, my free throw percentage
	was fifty-one percent, cause I was
	shooting it like a jump shot.

Jason leans in, kisses her bare shoulder.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Um...but then sophomore year I was
	shooting seventy-five percent from the
	line.

Jason kisses her neck.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	...uh, by keeping my feet set and really
	following through.

Jason goes in for the slam dunk.  Kisses Monica on the lips.
It's the first time she's really been kissed.  Jason pulls
away, smiles.

			JASON
	That was nice.

			MONICA
	Uh-huh.

			JASON
	Your sister told me hands off, but I
	can't help myself...

Jason leans in.  Monica closes her eyes, and they kiss some
more.  Monica tries to follow his practiced lips.

Jason's tongue slides in and their bodies slide down.  His
hand moves across her breast.  Monica's eyes pop open.

			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.

Monica nods, accepting the challenge.

EXT. TRACK - EARLY MORNING

It's cold, it's dark.  It's six a.m.

The team pounds down the track, pushing through a two-mile
run.  Monica and her freshman teammate/roommate SHAYLA, 18,
breathe heavily from the back of the pack.

From the sideline.

			COACH MILLER
	Let's go, freshmen, you're getting
	spanked!

Monica sucks it up, runs faster.  She reaches the middle of
the pack, then runs out of gas.  She drops back to the rear.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	Monica, I'm putting you on my Wizard of
	Oz team.  No brains, no courage and no
	heart!

INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING

Defensive drills.  One by one, players crouch low and move
backwards down the sideline.  ZVETTE, a junior guard, hustles
through the drill.

			COACH MILLER
	Way to work, Zvette.

Monica starts the drill.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	Get lower, Monica, move your feet.

Monica grimaces as she squats lower.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	I said lower!

Coach Miller stops her, squats down low beside her.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	This is low, got it?  Offense sells
	tickets, defense wins games!

Monica starts again.

INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING

The team stands along the baseline.  Monica stands right
below the free throw line.

TONI, 6'4", 200 pound senior, drives the lane.  Monica steps
in front of her, and is slammed to the floor.  She lays still
for a moment, stunned by the impact.  Laughter from the
baseline.

			SIDRA
	Dag, you took her out, T.

Teammates SANDRA and LISA crack up.

			SANDRA
	I think she just said "Mommy."

			LISA
	No, she said "mammary."

			COACH MILLER
	Monica, you trying to tell me you can't
	take a little challenge?

Monica crawls to her feet.

			MONICA
	I can take it.

			COACH MILLER
	This time get your feet set.

Monica moves back into position.  Toni drives at her again.
Monica steps in front of her, braces herself.  Toni slams
into her and she hits the floor.  Monica blinks back the pain
as she pops back up.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	Next!

Monica wobbles back to the sideline.

INT. WEIGHT ROOM - LATE DAY

The team is spread out, lifting weights.  Monica lies on a
weight bench, her arms shaking as she struggles to bench
press fifty-pounds.  Sidra stands behind her, spotting.

			SIDRA
	You got it, c'mon, lift!

Monica lifts it with Sidra's help.

			SIDRA (cont'd)
	That's it.

			MONICA
	Coach hates me, doesn't she?

			SIDRA
	She hates all freshmen.

Monica scowls, discouraged.

			MONICA
	What's up with that?

			SIDRA
	Hey, don't take it personal.  And don't
	think just cause we play the same
	position we have to compete with each
	other.  We're teammates, okay?

			MONICA
	Thanks, Sidra.

			SIDRA
	Besides.  I've been starting point the
	last two years.  Ain't no way some dumb-
	ass freshman is taking my spot.

Sidra walks off, leaving Monica with the bar on her chest.
Finally, she has to drop the weight to the floor.

EXT. USC CAMPUS - LATE MORNING

Monica and Quincy walk to class, his arm draped casually
across her shoulders.  Quincy gets looks and smiles.  Monica
just looks exhausted.

			MONICA
	You finish the reading for E-con?

			QUINCY
	Yeah.

			MONICA
	What'd it say?

			QUINCY
	Basically broke down how I'm gonna make
	mad loot in the NBA, me being such a
	limited commodity and all.

			MONICA
	Whatever, big head.

Quincy laughs.  TWO GIRLS pass by, smile.

			GIRL #1
	Hey, Q-man, you gonna take us to the
	Final Four?

			QUINCY
	We'll see.

			GIRL #2
	We'll be watching.

The girls continue on.  Monica looks at Quincy.

			QUINCY
	What?

			MONICA
	You do see me standing here, right?

			QUINCY
	I can't be nice to a fan?

			MONICA
	Fine, Quincy.

			QUINCY
	I can't help girls coming up to me.

			MONICA
	I said fine.

Quincy looks at her sulking.  He suddenly pulls her down onto
the nearby lawn, and cradles her.

			QUINCY
	It's okay, little baby.

			MONICA
		(struggling)
	Quit.

Quincy grips her tighter, rocks her.  Students pass by,
laugh.

			QUINCY
	Shhh.  Daddy's here.

Monica finally cracks up.

			MONICA
	You're such a punk.

He gives her a kiss.

			QUINCY
	All these girls...you're the only one I
	know who's for real.

Monica smiles, kisses him back.

			MONICA
	Always.
	
	
INT. CAMPUS GYM - MORNING



A heated scrimmage between the women's "A" team (the starting

five) and "B" team (five who want to be starting).  Monica

runs point for the "B" team, playing opposite Sidra.



Sidra is all over Monica, slipping in cheap shots, but Monica
starts to come on.  She does a quick cross-over and loses
Sidra.  She dishes off to Shayla, who scores.

			COACH MILLER
	Sidra!  You feel like playing any "D"?

Sidra scowls as she runs down court.  She gets a pass in the
corner, tires to make a move but Monica slaps the ball loose.

Monica grabs it, drives to the three-point line, puts up the
shot.  SWISH!  Monica stays posed, with her arm up.

Sidra takes advantage, sprints back down court.  She get the
long pass, lays it up.  Coach Miller blows her whistle.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	Monica!  Get over here.

Monica jogs over, sheepish.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	While you're so busy posing, your man
	just scored!

Monica drops her head.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	Show me again.

			MONICA
	What?

			COACH MILLER
	You love to pose so much, let's see it
	again.

Beat, then Monica holds up her arm like she just shot the
ball.  Snickers from her teammates.

			COACH MILLER (cont'd)
	I want you to stand like that for the
	rest of practice.

			MONICA
	Coach...

			COACH MILLER
	I want you to stand like that until
	you're sick of it because I don't ever
	want to see it again, you hear me?
		(then)
	Dora, take her spot.

DORA, freshman, jogs onto the court.  Coach Miller blows her
whistle and the scrimmage resumes.

Monica stands alone on the sideline, posing, and feeling like
an asshole.

INT. LOCKER ROOM - LATE MORNING

Monica sits on the bench in front of her locker, dressing
after the shower.  Shayla sits next to her.

Nearby, Lisa and Sandra apply make-up in the mirror.  Zvette
passes by, already dressed.  Lisa turns.

			LISA
	Z, I know you're gonna shower first.

			ZVETTE
	I don't smell bad.

			SANDRA
	And you wonder why your ass sits alone on
	the bus.

Cree glances over from another sink, as she snaps the chain
on her CROSS NECKLACE.

			CREE
	You guys curse too much.

			SANDRA
	Since when is "ass" a curse?

MAEYEN walks past.

			MAEYEN
	Whoa, it's as big as yours.

They crack up.  Cree just shakes her head.  Two TEAMMATES
pass by Monica with their arms raised, mimicking her pose.
Monica shakes her head.

Sidra glances at Monica from her spot on the bench.

			SIDRA
	That's what you get for trying to show
	out, freshman.

			MONICA
	I was just playing ball.

			SIDRA
	You were trying to make me look bad.

			MONICA
	Didn't have to try very hard.

Ears prick up around the locker room.  Sidra stands.

			SIDRA
	Girl, don't you know you're just sloppy
	seconds?

Monica rises.

			MONICA
	What?

Toni tries to step in.

			TONI
	Sidra, let it go.

			SIDRA
	Only reason you're here is cause Tonya
	Randall got pregnant and decided not to
	come.  They were done recruiting.

KELLI, senior forward, shakes her head.

			KELLI
	That's cold, Sid.

			SIDRA
	Just thought the girl should know.

Monica is stunned.  Sidra saunters to the showers.  Shayla
nudges her with her shoulder.

			SHAYLA
	Don't even trip.  She's just mad cause
	she's bow-legged.
	
	
 INT. USC SUITES - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT



Monica and Quincy lay feet to face on Quincy's twin bed.

Monica's hand holds an ice bag on Quincy's hip.  Quincy's arm
rests across an ice bag on Monica's ankle.

			QUINCY
	Forget Tonya Randall.

			MONICA
	I'm telling you, Coach wishes she was
	here instead of me.

			QUINCY
	Then prove her wrong.

			MONICA
	I don't have it easy like you, alright.
	There's no red carpet laid out for me.

			QUINCY
	So you're gonna act salty all night?

Quincy's roommate/teammate REGGIE, 18, suddenly pops his head
into the room.

			REGGIE
	Yo, dog, we're about to order some wings.

			QUINCY
	Nah, thanks.

Reggie shrugs, closes the door.  Quincy looks at Monica,
still brooding.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Fine.  Don't worry about proving
	everybody wrong, okay?  You can't handle
	the pressure, I'll understand.

			MONICA
	That was so weak.

			QUINCY
	Who cares if you're never known as the
	first girl in the NBA.  You'll get more
	play behind Quincy McCall's woman anyway.

Monica shoves Quincy's ice bag down his sweat pants.  He
leaps up.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Aaaah!  Damn, girl!

			MONICA
	That's what you get.

He smiles as he pulls the ice.  Then looks her up and down.

			QUINCY
	So how about a little one-on-one?

			MONICA
	What are we playing for?

			QUINCY
	Clothes.

			MONICA
	What?

Quincy locks the door, sets up his indoor hoop.

			QUINCY
	I score, you strip.  You score, I drop
	something.

Monica looks at him, then cracks up.

			MONICA
	Give me the ball.

			QUINCY
	My court, I go first.

Quincy grips the ball.  Monica crouches low on defense.
Quincy drives past her and slams down a vicious dunk.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Strip.

Monica makes a face, then pulls off her sweatshirt.  Quincy
skips back.  Monica drops low again.  Quincy fakes her out
and slams down another vicious dunk.  He laughs.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
       Where's the "D"?

		    MONICA
       Kiss my booty.

		    QUINCY
       Plan to.

Monica glares through her smile, then pulls off her T-shirt,
leaving her in a bra and shorts.

Quincy goes for another dunk, but this time, Monica reaches
out, GRABS HIS DICK.  Quincy drops the ball.  Monica picks it
up and lays it in.

		    QUINCY (cont'd)
       Hold up...

		    MONICA
       All's fair in love and basketball.
       Strip.

Quincy pulls off his shirt.  Monica moves back into position.
Quincy drops down low.  Monica fakes, gets him to leave his
feet.  She slips under him and scores.  She laughs.

		    MONICA (cont'd)
       Too bad you got your mama's height, huh.

Quincy pulls off his sweats, leaving him in just drawers.
Monica takes in the view as she moves back into position.

She holds the ball out, taunting.  Quincy pretends to reach
for it, but grabs her breast instead.

		    QUINCY
       Oh, my bad.

She drives.  Quincy just steps out of the way and lets her
score.  Monica snatches the ball off the floor.

		    MONICA
       Yo, where's the "D"?

		    QUINCY
       Right here.

Monica turns, finds Quincy butt-naked.  He moves her against
the wall and kisses her.  Monica drops the ball, wraps her
arms around him.  She smiles.

		    MONICA
       I won.

		    QUINCY
       I wanted you to.

Game over.  They hit it.


INT. ESPN STUDIOS



Sportscaster DICK VITALE talks animatedly about the upcoming
season.

		    DICK VITALE
       It's the start of the new college season
       and I'm like a kid in a candy store.  Too
       many great teams to choose from.  You
       have your Dukes', Kentuckys', Arkansas',
       but my surprise treat this season...

INT. BASKETBALL COURT

Sportscaster ROBIN ROBERTS reports on the upcoming women's
season.

		    ROBIN ROBERTS
       ...USC.  The women of Troy made it to the
       Sweet Sixteen last year and are returning
       four starters from that squad.  And many
       consider their recruiting class one of
       the best in the nation.  The highlight of
       that class,...

INT. ESPN STUDIOS

		    DICK VITALE
       ...is Quincy McCall, one of my diaper
       dandies.  He's a real P.T.P., a prime-
       time player.  Every college in the
       country wanted him but he chose to follow
       in his father's footsteps and become a
       Trojan.  He's gonna have a lot on his
       shoulders this season...

INT. BASKETBALL COURT

		    ROBIN ROBERTS
       ...but Coach Cheryl Miller feels that if
       just one of her freshmen has a breakout
       year, they can go all the way.  It's a
       long season, anything can happen, but one
       thing is for sure...

INT. ESPN STUDIOS

		    DICK VITALE
       It's gonna be awesome, baby!

MONTAGE:

INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT

A hundred flashbulbs pop as Quincy jogs out to center court.
The crowd goes crazy as...

INT. CAMPUS GYM - NIGHT

Monica sits on the bench, watching Sidra run the floor
against UNLV, as...

INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT

Quincy drives to the three-point line against Cal and puts it
up.  It drops through the net.  He pounds his fist against
the number twenty-two on his chest, nods to Zeke standing
behind the bench, as...

INT. CAMPUS GYM - NIGHT

Coach Miller motions to Monica.  She jumps up, pulls off her
sweats.  She jogs past Arizona bench and onto the floor,
as...

INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT

Quincy goes up for a dunk against North Carolina.  He jams it
down, grips the rim, and pulls his legs up high, as...

INT. KAISER ARENA - NIGHT

Monica catches a long outlet pass.  She drops a no-look
bounce pass between two Berkeley defenders, to a teammate who
scores.  She jogs back, as...

INT. SPORTS ARENA - NIGHT

Zeke grips Quincy's head proudly, affectionately, as they
walk off the floor after a game against Washington, as...

INT. UNIVERSITY OF CONNECTICUT - GAMPEL PAVILION - NIGHT

Sidra crashes to the floor, immediately grabs at her ankle.
Monica rises off the bench...

							   CUT TO:
							   
							   
INT. SPORTS BAR - NIGHT

Televisions hang from every corner, broadcasting various
games.

Zeke and Quincy sit at a bar.  Quincy is still hyped from his
game.

		    QUINCY
       ...up and under between two defenders,
       with the left hand.  That's gotta make
       SportsCenter.

Zeke just nods as the Bartender/Owner crosses over.  He is an
ex-ballplayer named TERRY.

		    QUINCY (cont'd)
       They can't stop me, Pop...

		    TERRY
       What are you having, Zeke?

		    ZEKE
       Genuine Draft.  And an orange juice for
	my kid.

			TERRY
	Cross-over's looking good, Quincy.  I
	know your old man didn't teach you that.

			ZEKE
	Didn't need a cross-over to post you up.

Terry laughs as he moves off to fix the drinks.  Something is
on Zeke's mind, but before he can speak on it...

			QUINCY
	You know, the numbers I'm putting up are
	better than any freshman.  Some people
	are saying I'm a definite lottery pick.

Zeke suddenly focuses.

			ZEKE
	What people?

			QUINCY
	You know, people.

			ZEKE
	Well, tell them to mind their damn
	business.  You're smart enough to get a
	degree.

			QUINCY
	I'm also good enough to go pro.

			ZEKE
	You know how much higher the play level
	is in the NBA?  Give yourself time to
	develop, Quincy.  Get an education.  The
	NBA ain't going nowhere.

			QUINCY
	You came out early.

			ZEKE
	Your mom got pregnant and I had to make
	choices.  You don't have a choice.

			QUINCY
	Okay...

Silence, then.

			ZEKE
	Besides, the sooner you go pro, the
	sooner you'll have to deal with the mess
	I'm dealing with.

			QUINCY
	What mess?

			ZEKE
	there's this thing out there.  This
	paternity suit.

			QUINCY
	What?

			ZEKE
	Some girl that's been hanging on at every
	party.  now I'm supposed to be her baby's
	Daddy.
		(then)
	Anyway, I told your mom I wanted to be
	the one who told you.

			QUINCY
	Tell me what?

			ZEKE
	I just told you.

			QUINCY
	I mean, it's not true, is it?

Zeke stares at his son.

			ZEKE
	You got the balls to ask me that?

Quincy can't hold his father's look.  Zeke shakes his head,
hurt.

			QUINCY
	Sorry.

			ZEKE
	No, you need to hear me say it, I'll say
	it.  It's not true.

Quincy looks in his father's eyes, knows he's telling the
truth.

			QUINCY
	So what are you gonna do?

			ZEKE
	I want this thing to go to court, but my
	lawyer's telling me to settle.

			QUINCY
	Why?

			ZEKE
	A case like this could hang around for
	months and I'm up for this player
	relations job with the "Clips."  This
	gets out, false or not, no one'll touch
	me.

			QUINCY
	What's Mom think?

			ZEKE
	We haven't exactly been living the fairy-
	tale life the past few years.  Something
	like this happens, it either brings a
	family closer or pushes them further
	apart.  We'll just have to see how it
	plays out.
		(then)
	I'm giving her some space, couple
	days...

Just then, a COLLEGE STUDENT approaches.

			COLLEGE STUDENT
	Yo, Q-man, great game.

			QUINCY
	Thanks.

The student holds out a piece of paper, without even a glance
to Zeke.

			COLLEGE STUDENT
	Can I get an autograph?

Quincy nods, signs the guy's paper.  Zeke watches his son,
the rising star.

EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - NIGHT

Through the windows, we see Quincy enter the house.  He
glances around, then walks to the living room.  He sees his
mom sitting outside by the pool, drink in hand, looking torn
up.  He pulls open the sliding glass door.  Nona jumps, then
sees Quincy.  She quickly puts her drink down.

			NONA
	You scared me.

			QUINCY
	Sorry.  You okay?

			NONA
	I'm fine.

Quincy glances at her half-hidden glass.

			QUINCY
	Last time I remember you drinking was
	when Marvin Gaye died.

No response from Nona.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	This about Dad?

			NONA
	Guess he talked to you.

			QUINCY
	Don't sweat it, okay.  Sooner or later
	the truth'll come out.

			NONA
		(beat)
	Whose truth are you talking about?

			QUINCY
	Mom, we can't let something like this
	mess up the family.

She doesn't respond.  Quincy studies her.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	I mean, you believe him, right?

Nona sits silent, humiliated.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Mom?

			NONA
	Just...leave it alone.

			QUINCY
	This is just about money, you know that.

			NONA
	Quincy, please...

			QUINCY
	I mean, how many times have you told me
	yourself to watch out for these ho's?

			NONA
	Guess I should have been telling your
	father.

			QUINCY
	So you're gonna take the word of some
	trick over Pop's?  He wouldn't lie.

Nona grabs an envelope beside her and throws it at him.

Confused, Quincy opens it.  HE PULLS OUT A COUPLE OF PHOTOS:

Zeke outside a party.  IN ONE PHOTO, his arm is around a
young woman.  IN ANOTHER PHOTO, they KISS.  AND YET ANOTHER,
they climb into his car.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	What...what's this?

			NONA
	I hired somebody.  How pathetic is that?
	After all his late nights and "meetings"
	and I still needed proof.

Quincy just stares at the photos.

			NONA (cont'd)
	I used to think I was lucky just to be
	married to Zeke McCall, but I'm too
	tired.

Quincy looks stricken, but he moves to Nona, comforts her as
she cries...


 EXT. TRACK - NIGHT



Monica sits with a devastated Quincy, high up in the
bleachers.  In the distance, the clock-tower glows 10:50.

			QUINCY
	Don't put your hands in your pockets,
	hold your head up, always look a man in
	the eye, and all the time I'm hanging on
	his every word like he's God or
	something...

			MONICA
	I know he messed up, but that doesn't
	change what he's been to you.

			QUINCY
	What has he been to me?  I mean, he
	looked me in my face and lied like it was
	nothing.  Like it was easy.
		(then)
	And I'm standing there getting loud on my
	mom like she's the one with no sense...

			MONICA
	She understands.

			QUINCY
	He even had me wanting to play for the
	"Clippers."  Man, how stupid am I.

			MONICA
	You're not stupid.

			QUINCY
	I know a lot of brothers dog their wives,
	I just never thought my pops would do
	some shit like this...

Monica puts her arms around him.  They sit there, quiet.
Monica glances up at the clock tower.  She reacts.  Quincy
notices.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	What?

			MONICA
	Nothing.
		(beat)
	Why don't we walk to my dorm?

			QUINCY
	I'm not up for running into anybody.
	Let's just kick it here, alright?

			MONICA
	I...can't.

			QUINCY
	Why not?

			MONICA
	Coach has us on eleven o'clock curfew.
	If I'm late, I don't suit up.

Quincy looks at her, almost in shock.

			QUINCY
	Didn't realize you were watching the
	clock.

			MONICA
	I mean, I can stay a few more minutes.

			QUINCY
	Nah.  Don't sweat it.

			MONICA
	Quincy...

			QUINCY
	For real.  I should be alone, anyway.

Monica reluctantly stands.

			MONICA
	Will you call me when you get in?

Quincy nods.  Monica gives him a kiss.  Then she turns and
crosses away.

INT. MONICA/SHAYLA'S DORM - NIGHT

The lights are off but Monica sits up in bed.  SHE WEARS
BOXERS AND ONE OF QUINCY'S PRACTICE SHIRTS.

Shayla lies under her covers across the room.

			MONICA
	I shouldn't have left.

			SHAYLA
	Go to sleep.

			MONICA
	You should have seen him, Shay...

			SHAYLA
	Mon, Sidra's out for one game, and you
	got the start.  But you get caught
	breaking curfew and Coach is gonna send
	your ass back to the bench.  You'll see
	your man tomorrow.

Shayla's warning slowly sinks in.  Finally, Monica lays down.

							DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. TRACK - NIGHT

The clock tower glows 12:30.  Quincy still sits in the
bleachers.  Alone.  Tears fill his eyes as his world comes
crashing down...

							DISSOLVE TO:
						      
						      
 INT. CAMPUS GYM - LATE DAY



USC vs. Louisiana Tech.  The packed crowd is hyped.  Nathan

sits by himself in the stands, excited.



Monica sits on the bench with four of her teammates.  The
rest of the team is lined up in front of them, including
Sidra in street clothes.

			ANNOUNCER
	And now the starting line-up for your
	Women of Troy!  At center, a senior, Toni
	Noise!

Toni rises, jogs through the line of teammates to the court.

			ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
	At forward, a senior, Lisa Mason!

Lisa stands, skips through the line.

			ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
	At forward, a junior, Zvette Mitchell!

Zvette jumps up, bumps into each teammate as she moves down
the line.

			ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
	At guard, a freshman, Monica Wright!

Monica takes a deep breath, then jogs through the line.  She
gets to the middle of the floor and looks around with her
game face on.

			ANNOUNCER (cont'd)
	And at guard, a sophomore, Sandra Perez!

Sandra jogs out and the rest of the team follows.  Everyone
gathers in a tight circle with their arms around each other.

			TONI
	Look y'all, we got all these people here
	to see big-bad, La Tech.  We need to let
	them know that this is our house.  So
	everybody better leave everything out on
	that floor, you got that?  Ready?  One,
	two, three....

			TEAM
	Team!

						        SMASH CUT TO:

INT. SPORTS ARENA - LATE DAY

A sellout crowd for the men's SC/Temple game.  And Quincy is
having the worst game of his life.

He drives down court on a fast break.  He ignores his two
open teammates and puts up a three-pointer.  It hits nothing
but air.  The crowd boos.

Humiliated, Quincy tries to steal the ball back and commits a
stupid foul.  His teammates glare at him as they line up for
free throws.

INT. CAMPUS GYM - CONTINUOUS

Monica's game.  Late second half.  SC down two.

Monica drives the lane, drawing two defenders.  She looks
like she's about to force up a shot, then suddenly whips up a
pass to a wide-open Sandra at the three-point line.  Nothing
but net.  SC up one.

Coach Miller claps intensely on the sideline.

			COACH MILLER
	That's it, that's it!

Ten seconds left.  Game on the line.  Monica tries to lob a
pass inside to Toni.  The pass is knocked away and grabbed up
by the opposing point guard.

It is a one-on-one between Monica and the guard.  The girl
drives hard for the winning hoop.  Monica races to the key
and slides in front of her.  The guard goes up and slams into
Monica.  Both crash to the floor as the ball drops through
the net and the buzzer goes off.

A WHISTLE.  The two women stare up at the REFEREE from the
floor.  And then --

			REFEREE
	Offensive foul!  Charging!  No basket!

Monica leaps up as the crowd goes crazy.  Toni grabs up
Monica in a hug as their teammates celebrate around them.

INT. SPORTS ARENA - CONTINUOUS

Quincy drags himself to his bench, slumps down dejectedly, as
the Temple Owls celebrate their win around him.

INT. LOCKER ROOM - DUSK

The female players continue to celebrate as they undress.

			MAEYEN
	Shoot, you see that crowd?  We need to be
	playing in the Sports Arena.

			KELLI
	Hell yeah.

They give each other a pound.

Lisa looks at Monica, standing in her shorts and sports bra.

			LISA
	Oh damn, Mon.

			MONICA
	What?

			LISA
	I think ol' girl took out your chi-chis
	with that charge.

The women break into laughter.  Monica smiles.

			MONICA
	Kiss my ass.

			SANDRA
	Nah, I think she took that too.

			MONICA
	Sandra, please, last time you chest-
	bumped me, it took you three tries.

More laughter.  Monica looks over at Toni, sitting quietly at
the bench.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Yo, T, why you so quiet?

			TONI
		(beat)
	I don't want to go play overseas.

			DORA
	I thought you were hyped about going to
	Portugal next year.

			TONI
	It's never gonna be like this.  Playing
	in front of my family, hanging out with
	my girls.  Probably not even a
	McDonald's.

			SANDRA
	Nah, there's always a McDonald's.

			SIDRA
	Least you got an offer.  My agent's
	still looking.

			CREE
		(to Lisa)
	What about you?

			LISA
		(beat)
	Maybe it'd be worth it if I knew some day
	I could come back here and play.  But for
	right now, it's law school.

			COACH MILLER (O.S.)
	Monica.

Monica turns, sees Coach Miller standing in her office
doorway.  She motions for her.  Monica heads over.  Sidra
watches.

INT. COACH MILLER'S OFFICE - SHORT TIME LATER

Trophies, plaques and photos fill every empty space.

Coach Miller sits behind her desk.  Monica stands before her.

			COACH MILLER
	You could've given up after you threw
	that ball away.  But you kept your head
	and you showed real heart.

			MONICA
	Thanks.

			COACH MILLER
	We've got our final games against Oregon
	and Oregon State and I want to shake
	things up a bit, so I'm starting you at
	point again.

			MONICA
		(confused)
	I thought Sidra's ankle was okay for next
	game.

			COACH MILLER
	You want the job or not?

Realization finally hits.

			MONICA
	Yeah.  Yes.

Monica looks at Coach Miller completely thrown.

			COACH MILLER
	What?

			MONICA
	It's just...it seems like you're always
	yelling at me.

			COACH MILLER
	You think I'd go hoarse for a player with
	no potential?   When I ignore you, that's
	when you worry.
		(then)
	Go get dressed.

Monica nods, crosses out.

INT. LOCKER ROOM - CONTINUOUS

As Monica walks back to her teammates, Coach Miller steps
into the doorway.

			COACH MILLER
	Sidra.

Sidra looks at Monica as she rises, crosses over.  Monica
avoids her eyes as they pass.  Sidra enters the office and
the door closes.

			SHAYLA
	Yo sis, what's going on?

Beat, then Monica smiles.

						        SMASH CUT TO:
						      
						      
 INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT



Black folks pack the cramped houseparty, bumping to a phat

hip hop joint.



Monica bounces through the throng.  A GIRL grabs her arm.

			GIRL'S VOICE
	Yo, great game.

			MONICA
	Thanks.

Another PARTY-GOER grabs her arm.

			PARTY-GOER
	Girl, you can play.

Monica smiles wider.  She spots Reggie dancing in the crowd,
moves to him.

			MONICA
	Reg.  You seen Quincy?

			REGGIE
	What's up, girl.

			MONICA
		(louder)
	Derek said Q was here.

			REGGIE
	We'll roll through.

Monica is suddenly pulled into a dance routine by Sandra and
Lisa.

She laughs, tires to move away, but they won't let her go.
Monica gives in, grooves with them.

ANGLE ON:

Quincy walks through the door with a half-empty forty in his
hand.  Girls immediately try to grab his attention from the
dance floor, or stare him down from the sidelines.

Quincy sees Monica on the dance floor.  He stands, watching
her.  Takes a drink.  Monica finally looks over, sees him.
She smiles, crosses to him.

			MONICA
	Hey.

			QUINCY
	What's up?

			MONICA
	I've been trying to find you all day.

			QUINCY
	Here I am.

She glances at the forty in his hand.

			MONICA
	Sorry about your game.

			QUINCY
	It happens, right...

Shayla suddenly grabs Monica from behind.

			SHAYLA
		(to Monica)
	What's up, superstar.
		(then, to Quincy)
	Your girl was on tonight.  She tell you?

			QUINCY
		(beat)
	I heard.

			SHAYLA
	She also tell you she ganked the starting
	spot from Sidra?

Monica looks at him for a reaction.

			QUINCY
	Nah.

He downs the last of his forty.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Where's the keg at?

			SHAYLA
	Balcony.

He heads for the glass doors.  Monica and Shayla follow.

EXT. BALCONY - CONTINUOUS

Reggie approaches the group.  Gives Quincy a nod.

			REGGIE
	What's up, dog?
		(to Shayla)
	Hey, flyness.

			SHAYLA
	Get off the bra strap, Reggie, you're a
	ho.

He laughs, then turns back to Quincy.

			REGGIE
	Coach is gonna kill us in practice
	tomorrow.  Might even pull his lips off
	your dick, limp as your game was tonight.

Quincy just looks at him.

			QUINCY
	That's funny.

Monica leans against Quincy, affectionately.

			MONICA
	he's just playing, Q...

			QUINCY
	You think for once we could talk about
	something besides basketball?

			SHAYLA
	Sure.

			REGGIE
	Whatever's clever.

Silence.  Reggie and Shayla crack up.  Quincy shakes his
head, moves to the keg line.

			MONICA
	Y'all need to quit.

She starts for Quincy

			SIDRA (O.S.)
	Monica.

Monica looks over, sees Sidra standing in the doorway.  There
is no escaping this confrontation.  She glances at Quincy,
then crosses over.  Quincy turns, sees her disappear back
inside.

INT. HOUSEPARTY - CONTINUOUS

			MONICA
	What's up?

			SIDRA
	Just wanted to say good game.

			MONICA
	But?

			SIDRA
	No buts.  Took a lot of heart to take
	that charge.

			MONICA
	Thanks.

			SIDRA
	But that was a dumb-ass pass to Toni.
	Ten seconds left, you run out the clock.

Monica shakes her head.  An awkward silence.

			SIDRA (cont'd)
	I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pissed.

			MONICA
	I know.

			SIDRA
	Just one word of advice for next season.

			MONICA
	What's that?

			SIDRA
	Never let a freshman take your spot.

Sidra turns and walks away.

EXT. BALCONY - CONTINUOUS

Quincy takes one long drink from his cup.  KERRY, 20, and
spandexed, stands directly in front of him, flirtatiously.

			KERRY
	Excuse me.

			QUINCY
	Excuse me.

He steps aside as she tries to work the keg.  Nothing comes
out.  She nods at his cup, smiles.

			KERRY
	If that's the last beer, you and I are
	sharing.

Shayla glances over as Quincy pumps the keg a couple of
times.  Kerry hands him her cup and he starts filling it up.

			KERRY (cont'd)
	I like watching you play.  Number twenty-
	two.

			QUINCY
	Guess you didn't see the game.

Quincy knows he should blow her off, but he's digging the
attention.  He hands her back her cup.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	What's your name?

			KERRY
	Kerry.

			QUINCY
	Q.

			KERRY
	I know.

ANGLE ON

Monica looks over at Quincy and sees him talking to the
hoochie.  The girl looks too damn comfortable.  Monica moves
back outside.

			KERRY (cont'd)
	I'll see you.  Q-man.

She swishes past Monica.  Shayla "accidentally" bumps her.
Kerry glares.

			MONICA
	Who was that?

			QUINCY
	Nobody.

			MONICA
	Who's nobody?

			QUINCY
	Look, this party's whack.  You ready to
	go?

			MONICA
	You want to go talk?

			QUINCY
	Not really.

He leans in, kisses her drunkenly.  She pulls away.

			MONICA
	We could finish what we were talking
	about last night.

Quincy kisses her again.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Q...
		(pushing him off)
	Quincy, quit.  You're drunk.

They fall silent.

			QUINCY
	You know what, I'm just gonna crash.

			MONICA
		(agitated)
	Fine...Maybe I'll come by later.

			QUINCY
	Nah.  I have curfew.

He starts to walk away, then stops.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Oh, by the way.  Congratulations.

He goes.  Monica stares after him.


 INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - LIVING ROOM - LATER

Quincy pushes through his front door, then stops short in his
doorway.  Zeke sits on the couch.

			QUINCY
	What are you doing here?

			ZEKE
	Your door was unlocked.

			QUINCY
	Still is, so let yourself out.

			ZEKE
	We need to talk.

			QUINCY
	We ain't got nothing to talk about.

			ZEKE
	I messed up, okay, I know that.  But I
	ain't that kid's father.

			QUINCY
	Lucky kid.

			ZEKE
	Look, I ain't saying it was right, but
	sometimes things happen.

			QUINCY
	And some things should never fucking
	happen!

			ZEKE
	Boy, you're so perfect you can look down
	on me?

			QUINCY
	I ain't a damn liar.

			ZEKE
	Your mom was real quick to show you those
	pictures, wasn't she?
	Well, she was nineteen when she got
	pregnant and don't get me wrong, you're
	the best thing in my life, but she knew I
	wasn't ready for no marriage.

			QUINCY
	So now you're saying my mother trapped
	you?

			ZEKE
	I'm saying I handled my responsibilities
	like a man.  But when you're in the NBA,
	you pull into a city and there's a
	hundred women waiting at the hotel.  And
	another twenty that made it past security
	on your floor.  And the boldest one is
	standing right at your door.  And after
	awhile, it just becomes part of the game.
		(then)
	I'm sorry I lied to you, I shouldn't
	have.  But I did it cause I love you.

Zeke looks at his son, meaning every word.  Quincy stares
back, long and hard.

			QUINCY
	Since we're being honest, guess I should
	tell you.  I'm dropping out of school and
	going pro.

			ZEKE
	What?

Quincy just stares back.

			ZEKE (cont'd)
	Quincy, you'd be making the biggest
	mistake of your life.

			QUINCY
		(sarcastic)
	From your mouth.

			ZEKE
		(desperate)
	I know your mad at me, okay, but I can't
	let you do this.

			QUINCY
	Always thought "can't" wasn't in a man's
	vocabulary.

Zeke is taken aback by the hatred in his son's eyes.  He
turns and without another word, exits.

EXT. STREET - LATE NIGHT

Quincy stands across the street from the houseparty, staring
up at the balcony.  Monica leans against the railing,
laughing with a couple of teammates.  Quincy watches her,
then turns and walks away...

							DISSOLVE TO:
						      
						      
 EXT. CAMPUS GYM - LATE DAY



SLOW MOTION.  Monica's eyes are on fire as she races an

Oregon player for a loose ball.  Both dive for it, slide

across the floor.  Monica grabs it up, screams for a time-out
as her opponent tries to wrestle away the ball...

EXT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - DUSK

Monica walks down the hall to Quincy's suite.  The window is
open.  The sounds of Nintendo are heard.  She walks in
without knocking.

INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S SUITE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Reggie sits on the couch with a TEAMMATE, playing Nintendo's
"Duck Hunt".

			MONICA
	Hey, y'all.

They barely give her a nod.  Monica crosses into

INT. QUINCY/REGGIE'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Quincy stands at an ironing board, ironing a T-shirt.

			MONICA
	Hey.

			QUINCY
	Hey, what's up.

			MONICA
	You weren't at my game.

			QUINCY
	Yeah, sorry about that.  I had this
	meeting with this guy.

Quincy pulls on the T-shirt.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	You win?

			MONICA
	Yeah, I hit a three at the buzzer.

			QUINCY
	The "man" again.

			MONICA
		(smiles)
	Woman...

A knock at the front door.  Quincy exits.

INT. LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Monica follows, then stops short.  Kerry, the spandexed girl
from the party, stands in the doorway.

			QUINCY
	Hey, you.

			KERRY
	Hi.

Quincy gives her a hug.  Monica stares at him in disbelief.
Reggie and his teammate smack each other, "Oh shit!"

			QUINCY
	Oh, Kerry, this is Monica.  Monica,
	Kerry.

			MONICA
	What the hell's going on?

			QUINCY
	We're going to get some food.

			MONICA
	Are you out of your mind?

			KERRY
	Maybe I should come back?

			MONICA
	No.  You stay, I'll leave.

She storms out.

EXT. WRIGHT HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - DUSK

BAM!  Monica slams her car door.  Her face is a mask of anger
and confusion.

Camille exits the house, car keys in hand.  She sees her.

			CAMILLE
	Monica.  What are you doing here?

			MONICA
	Didn't know I needed a reason to come
	home.

			CAMILLE
	Don't be defensive.  I'm just surprised
	to see you.

			MONICA
	Dad around?

			CAMILLE
	He's still at the bank.

Monica glowers.  Camille looks at her.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	Everything okay?

			MONICA
		(clearly not)
	Yeah.

Camille just nods, doesn't bother asking again.

			CAMILLE
	Well, I'm going to get dinner.

She pulls open her car door.  Beat, then...

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	It's just a game.

			MONICA
	What?

			CAMILLE
	Whenever you lose, you get this attitude.
	But it's just a game.

Monica rolls her eyes, as her mom leaves.

EXT. DORMS - NIGHT

Quincy sits on the wall outside of Monica's dorm, as Monica
slowly makes her way up the walk.  She sees him, stops.

			QUINCY
	Can we talk?

			MONICA
	Talk to your new girlfriend.

			QUINCY
	I just took the ho to Burger King,
	alright.

			MONICA
	Cheap date.

			QUINCY
	Least she had time for me.

			MONICA
	So you fucked around to prove a point!

			QUINCY
	I just said I didn't fuck around.  But
	you got your head so far up your ass it
	took a cheap date for you to notice me.

			MONICA
	What, "Q-man", did I forget to kiss your
	ass like everybody else?

			QUINCY
	You forgot to be there.

			MONICA
	That night you wanted to talk about your
	Dad I had a curfew.  What was I supposed
	to do?

			QUINCY
	Stay!

			MONICA
	If I stayed, I wouldn't be starting!

			QUINCY
	Least you got your priorities straight.

			MONICA
	I never asked you to choose.

			QUINCY
	Never had to.

			MONICA
	I'm a ballplayer.  If anyone knows what
	that means it should be you.

			QUINCY
	Well, if all you care about is
	basketball, why you fucking me?  Go fuck
	Dick Vitale.

Monica punches the shit out of Quincy, then pushes past him.
Quincy grabs her arm, stopping her.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Hold up.  I'm sorry, alright.

They stand, silent.  Trying to come down from their anger.

			MONICA
	How do I know next time you're feeling
	neglected or whatever, you're not going
	to run around on me?  If we're going to
	be together I have to be able to trust
	you.

			QUINCY
	I'm not asking for us to be together.

Monica flinches in shock.

			MONICA
	What?

			QUINCY
	I'm going through a lot of shit right
	now, more than you have time for.

			MONICA
	How are you going to tell me what I have
	time for?  I mean, whatever I did...we
	can fix this.

			QUINCY
	I don't think so.

			MONICA
	You don't think so?

			QUINCY
	Look, I'm entering the draft.

			MONICA
	You're what?

			QUINCY
	I decided to go pro.  And who knows where
	I'll end up, you know?

Monica's heart is sinking fast.

			MONICA
	When did you decide all this?

			QUINCY
	Few days ago.

			MONICA
	So that's it, just forget about us?

			QUINCY
	Damnitt, Monica.  This ain't about us
	anymore, it's about me.

Monica is crushed.  Beat as, Quincy struggles to stay cold.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	But, you know, I'd still like us to be
	friends.

			MONICA
	Friends.

She fights back tears.  Quincy has to look away.  Monica
can't respond.

			QUINCY
	So...I guess I'll see you around.

			MONICA
	Uh huh.

Beat, then Quincy turns and walks away.  Monica tries to
fight her tears but her pain, hurt and confusion are too
much.  Finally, she gives in, and the tears fall.

						       FADE TO BLACK.

FOOTAGE.  Press conference.  Magic sits beside his wife
Cookie.  He shocks the world as he announces his retirement
from basketball.

 FADE IN:



TITLE CARD: "FOURTH QUARTER" then "1993"



ESTABLISHING SHOTS OF SPAIN



Madrid, Pampolona, the running of the bulls, old-world
architecture.

Finally, we rest on a large billboard, a photo of Monica in a
basketball uniform, drinking a Spanish soft-drink.

EXT. STREETS OF SPAIN - LATE DAY

Monica jogs down the congested cobble-stone street, a sports
bag over her shoulder.  She is TWENTY-THREE.  Half-assed
braids frame her matured features.

She passes store fronts, street vendors, and dodges
pedestrians, as she makes her way toward a large, older
arena.

EXT. ARENA - CONTINUOUS

An excited crowd jockeys for position at the front doors.
Above them, a huge banner reads "Campeonato de Europeo".
(European Championships".)

As Monica heads for the back entrance, a cheer goes up from a
large contingent in the crowd.  Monica smiles, waves back.
TWO LITTLE GIRLS break from line, run to her.

			LITTLE GIRLS
	Baloncesto!  Balencesto!  (Basketball!
	Basketball!)

			MONICA
	Oye.

They giggle, hold out a piece of paper and a pencil.

			LITTLE GIRLS
	Autografo.

As Monica signs her autograph, a tall woman carrying a
matching sports bag approaches.  She is LUISA, Spanish, 33.

			LUISA
		(thick Spanish accent)
	Monica.  What is up?

			MONICA
	Oye, Luisa.

Monica hands the girls her autograph and they run off.

			LUISA
	Large game, no?

			MONICA
	Si.  Large game.

They duck into the arena.

INT. ARENA - LOCKER ROOM - LATE DAY

Paint peels off the walls.  Windows are broken overhead.

Monica sits alone at her locker, taping her own ankles.  Her
TEN TEAMMATES, all from Spain, sit on the surrounding
benches, talking and joking among themselves in Spanish.
Monica is clearly an outsider.

COACH PARRA, Spanish, late 40's, enters.

			COACH PARRA
	Silenco!

The women immediately stop talking.  COACH PARRA gives an
animated, impassioned speech in Spanish.  Monica doesn't
understand a word, just continues taping her ankles.

Coach Parra finishes and the women clap, pumped up. Monica
turns to Luisa, seated next to her on the bench.

			MONICA
	What did he say?

			LUISA
	He say to give the ball to you.

INT. ARENA - NIGHT

The arena is PACKED with a raucous European crowd, chanting
and waving signs - the love their women's basketball.

Monica walks onto the floor, tucking her jersey into her
shorts.  The uniforms are old-style - polyester and tight.
Her club's name is stitched on the front, "GODELLA".

As she hits center court, a smile suddenly breaks through her
game face.  Standing opposite her, playing for the opposing
Italian club is Sidra, HER RIVAL FROM USC.

			SIDRA
	Well, what do you know.

			MONICA
	What's up, Sidra.

			SIDRA
	I'm gonna love winning this championship
	in your house.

			MONICA
	How do you say "you're dreaming" in
	Italian?

They move into position.  The ball is tossed up.  Italy winds
the tip and the ball is passed to Sidra.

Monica hounds her as she brings up the ball.  Sidra shoves
her off and to the floor, and scores.  No whistle.  Women's
pro ball is at a whole other level.  Bigger, better, tougher.

The ball is passed in to Monica.  She drives down court, goes
up for a lay up.  An Italian player shoves Monica in mid-air,
taking out her legs.  Monica crashes on the hardwood.

A whistle.  Monica lays still for a moment, then pushes
herself up and walks to the free-throw line without a word.
Without emotion.

INT. SPAIN - NIGHTCLUB - LATE NIGHT

A huge crowd dances fervently to the live Spanish music.  In
the middle of the floor, the Spanish players are the life of
the party.

In a corner, Monica sits with Sidra, drinking and watching
the festivities.  A large trophy sits on the table.

			SIDRA
	Can you take that damn thing off the
	table.

			MONICA
	You mean my championship trophy?  My bad.

Monica sets it down in the seat next to her, puts an arm
around it.  Sidra shakes her head.

			SIDRA
	Still a cocky bitch.

Monica laughs.  She downs her drink, motions to the waiter.

			MONICA
	Uno mas, por favor.

The waiter nods.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Last I heard, you were playing in Sweden.

			SIDRA
	Yeah, four years ago.  They had me
	staying in this tiny-ass town with like
	fifty people.  I'm not playing, there was
	about a thousand goats running around,
	and it gets dark at four o'clock.  Then
	the whack club I'm on loses three games
	in a row and I get blamed.  So they fire
	me.

			MONICA
	Just like that?

			SIDRA
	Yup.  So I've been playing with this
	Italian club the last three years.

			MONICA
	How's that been?

			SIDRA
	It's better.  Even though the whole first
	season my teammates didn't pass to me
	cause they were mad "The American" was
	making more money.
		(smiles)
	I led the team in rebounds cause it was
	the only way I could touch the damn ball.

Monica laughs as the waiter brings her drink.  She tries to
pay, but he just shakes his head, crosses away.

			SIDRA (cont'd)
	Most of us don't win championships our
	first year overseas.

			MONICA
	Please, I went through the same drama as
	everybody else.  I mean, the first four
	months, only person I could talk to was
	this chick Luisa, who knew like ten words
	of English from watching old "Dif'rent
	Strokes" reruns.  Swear to God, I had to
	tell her if she said, "What you talking
	bout, Willis?" one more time, I was
	gonna kick her ass.

Sidra laughs.  They watch the madness out on the dance floor.

			SIDRA
	So what are these Spanish guys like?

			MONICA
	I wouldn't know.

			SIDRA
	What?  You've been over here seven months
	and you ain't tapped anything?

			MONICA
	Just not my type, I guess.

			SIDRA
	Shoot, Italian boys love them some black
	women.  They can't get enough of me.

Monica smiles.

			MONICA
	You ever think about going back?

			SIDRA
	Sometimes.  But what's the alternative,
	not playing?  You remember big Toni?
		(off Monica's nod)
	She quit last year, now she's working at
	some bookstore.  I mean, look at us.
	They treat us like we're Hollywood stars
	over here.  We just played in the
	championship game.  It doesn't get much
	sweeter than this.

Monica takes this in.  Her eyes do not reflect someone on top
of the world.  She takes a long drink.

INT. SPAIN - MONICA'S APARTMENT - LATE NIGHT

A small, sparse, one-bedroom.  Sam, Diane and the rest of the
gang from "Cheers" fill the small TV screen that flickers in
the darkness.  Their dialogue is dubbed in Spanish.

Monica sits on the floor, braiding her hair.

SHE WEARS BOXERS AND QUINCY'S OLD PRACTICE SHIRT.  AFTER FIVE
YEARS, IT IS WELL-WORN.

Feelings of loneliness threaten to swallow her whole.  She
looks out her window and sees her billboard, looming in the
distance.  She just stares.


 INT. LOS ANGELES FORUM - NIGHT



The crowd erupts as a Laker player dunks the ball on a fast

break.



ANGLE ON



Laker announcers CHICK HEARN and STU LANTZ.



			CHICK HEARN

	Stu, this game is in the refrigerator.
	The door is closed, the lights are out,
	the butter's hard and the Jell-Oooooo's
	jigglin'.

			STU LANTZ
	And here come the subs.

ANGLE ON

Quincy pulls off his sweats and jogs onto the court with the
rest of the subs.  He is twenty-three, a man.  His goatee and
tired eyes make him look older.  HE NOW WEARS NUMBER TWENTY-
ONE.

			STU LANTZ (cont'd) (V.O.)
	It's good to see these guys get a little
	playing time.  And the fans love it.

Quincy immediately gets a pass in the corner.  He puts up a
quick three and it banks hard off the rim.

ANGLE ON

Chick and Stu.

			CHICK HEARN
	Three-pointer is off for the kid from
	SC.  Came out after his freshman year,
	now in his fifth year with the league.

			STU LANTZ
	The son of Zeke McCall, played twelve
	years with the Clippers.

			CHICK HEARN
		(nods)
	Pretty good player.  The kid's moved
	around quite a bit, but he's hoping to
	finally have a home with the Lakers.

ANGLE ON

Quincy steals the ball, has nothing but open court ahead of
him.

			CHICK HEARN (cont'd) (V.O.)
	Watch out, folks, it's showtime.

Quincy takes off from the hash-mark and throws down a monster
jam.  He swings high off the rim.  Too high.  His hand slips
and he crashes to the floor.  His knee twists at a sickening
angle.

The dwindling crowd gasps as Quincy clutches his left knee,
writhing in pain.

INT. DANIEL FREEMAN HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - LATE NIGHT

Zeke walks down the corridor, checking room numbers.  He is
forty-five now.  His slight paunch as become a roll.

He sees Nona exiting a room, with an empty water pitcher in
hand.  Her hair is in locks.

			ZEKE
	Nona.

Nona looks over.  Her eyes narrow.

			ZEKE (cont'd)
	How's he doing?

			NONA
	Not great.

			ZEKE
	What's that, not great?

			NONA
	The doctor'll be back in a minute.

			ZEKE
	Nona, please.

			NONA
	He tore his ACL.

Zeke's shoulders slump.  Then he looks back at her.

			ZEKE
	Almost didn't recognize you with your
	hair like that.  How you been?

			NONA
	Happy.  And he won't want to see you.

Nona walks over to a MAN standing nearby.  He puts an arm
around her and they move down the hall.  Zeke watches for a
beat, then pulls open Quincy's door, steps inside.

INT. QUINCY'S HOSPITAL ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Quincy lays in the bed.  His knee is bandaged and propped up
by pillows.  He stares out the window.

			ZEKE
	Hey, son.

Quincy turns, sees his father.  He turns back to the window.

			ZEKE (cont'd)
	Well, you made SportsCenter.

			QUINCY
	What do you want?

			ZEKE
	Came by to check on you.

			QUINCY
	After five years.

			ZEKE
	Don't remember that being my fault.
	Seems like you divorced me same time as
	your mom.

			QUINCY
	Look, I'm busy.

			ZEKE
	I can see that.  I know things look
	pretty bleak right now, but you can't get
	down on yourself.

			QUINCY
	I stopped taking your advice a long time
	ago, or did you forget?

			ZEKE
	No.

			QUINCY
	Good.

			ZEKE
	Quincy.  I know you left school early to
	throw your middle finger up at me.

			QUINCY
	And now I'm paying for it, right?  That
	what this is about?  "I told you so?"

			ZEKE
	You want me to fuck off?

			QUINCY
	Yeah.

			ZEKE
	Fine, I'll fuck off, but not til I say
	something.

Silence.  Then.

			ZEKE (cont'd)
	You're a better ballplayer than I ever
	was.  But you got a lot of other things
	going for you.  You're smart.  I always
	felt...I always knew that you could do
	anything you wanted.  You want to be a
	ballplayer, be a ballplayer.  Just know
	you ain't like everybody else on that
	court.  You ain't like I was.  You got
	options.  That's all I ever tried to show
	you.

			QUINCY
	You're still trying to tell me what I
	should and shouldn't do.  How come you
	couldn't be the man you kept trying to
	make me?

Zeke stares at his son, wishing he could satisfy him with an
answer.

			ZEKE
	I just couldn't

With nothing left to say, Zeke pulls open the door and
leaves.  Quincy stares at the door long after it closes.

							DISSOLVE TO:
						      
						      
 INT. QUINCY'S HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY



A NURSE enters, carrying a bouquet of flowers.  She moves

past the empty bed, puts them on a table already overflowing

with flowers.  She pulls open the blinds and light floods the
room.  She crosses back out.

A toilet flush.  Beat, then Quincy slowly hops out of the
bathroom, scratching his bare ass through the opening of his
gown.

			VOICE (O.S.)
	And I thought this was gonna be awkward.

Quincy whips around and is shocked to see Monica standing
there, laughing.  She has clearly made an effort with her
appearance.

			QUINCY
	Monica?

He stumbles.  Monica quickly goes to him, catches his arm
before he falls.

			MONICA
	I'm sorry.

Quincy stares at her, completely thrown.  It's been five
years.  An awkward beat.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	So, how you doing?

			QUINCY
	Alright.  I heard you were in Spain.

			MONICA
	I was.
		(smiling)
	I see your peach fuzz finally grew in.

Quincy rubs his goatee self-consciously.

			QUINCY
	Just something I'm trying.

			MONICA
	No, it looks good.  I mean, it's cool.

			QUINCY
	Thanks.

Quincy tries to adjust his footing and flinches in pain.

			MONICA
	Shouldn't you be lying down, or...

			QUINCY
	I'm alright.  But you can sit.

			MONICA
	I'm fine.  My dad said you tore your ACL.

			QUINCY
	Yup.

			MONICA
	What are the doctors saying?

			QUINCY
		(shrugs)
	A lot of things.  All I know is I'll be
	back in six months.

			MONICA
	I thought a torn ACL was ten to twelve.

			QUINCY
	Not for Quincy McCall.

			MONICA
	I forgot, "Q-man."

An awkward beat.

			QUINCY
	So, how's pro-ball, Europe?

			MONICA
	We won the championship.

			QUINCY
	Still working on being the first girl in
	the NBA?

			MONICA
	Well, I tried sneaking in after college,
	but they found breasts during my
	physical.

			QUINCY
	Funny.  I never did.

			MONICA
	Kiss my ass.

Monica cracks up.  Quincy laughs with her.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	I can't believe it's been five years.

Quincy nods.

			QUINCY
	Tried calling you a couple times.

			MONICA
	Oh yeah?

			QUINCY
	Wanted to give you props on making First
	Team All-American.  And then when Magic
	retired, I tried calling you again.

			MONICA
		(lying)
	Must have been my cheap-ass answering
	machine.  It was always messing up.

			QUINCY
	Figured it was something like that.

They look at each other.  The moment is building.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	So, when do you go back?

			MONICA
	Actually, I don't...

			QUINCY
	What do you mean?

			MONICA
	I'm tired of playing overseas.  Thinking
	about giving it a rest for awhile.

			QUINCY
		(completely thrown)
	A rest?

			MONICA
	Yeah.  Basketball just, isn't fun
	anymore.  You know?

			QUINCY
	No.

He stares at her.  Into her.

			FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)
	Quincy!

Quincy and Monica turn, as KYRA KESSLER, black, 26 and
beautiful, rushes into the room.  She wears a flight
attendant's uniform.  She goes to Quincy, gives him a kiss.
Monica reacts.

			KYRA
	I'm so sorry.  No one would switch
	flights with me.

			QUINCY
	It's okay.

			KYRA
	Why are you up?  Get in bed.

She takes Quincy's arm, moves him to the bed.  Monica
watches.

			KYRA (cont'd)
	Tell me you're going to be okay.

			QUINCY
	I'm gonna be okay.

Kyra relaxes.  Then she glances over at Monica.

			KYRA
	Hello.

			QUINCY
	Kyra, this is Monica.  She, uh...

			KYRA
		(recognizing)
	Monica.  You grew up together, right?
	Quincy's told me about you.

Monica smiles awkwardly.

			QUINCY
	This is Kyra.  My fiance.

The shock hits too quick to cover.  But Monica tries.

			MONICA
	Fiance.  Wow.  Congratulations.

			KYRA
	Thank you.

			MONICA
	I didn't know.  Wow.  That's great.
		(then)
	Well...I should go.

			QUINCY
	It means a lot that you came by.

			KYRA
	Yes, we appreciate that.

			MONICA
	Yeah, and Quincy, good luck with your
	knee, and everything.

			QUINCY
	Thanks.

Monica forces one last smile, pulls open the door and leaves.

INT. HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER

Monica walks down the hall, shell-shocked.


 INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - KITCHEN - LATE DAY



Camille moves between the counter and the stove, whipping up

a couple pecan pies.  Monica enters.



			MONICA

	Hey.



			CAMILLE
	Hi.

			MONICA
	Need any help?

			CAMILLE
	I can manage.

Monica nods and moves to the barstool.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	Your sister's bringing the baby over.
	You should try to be here.

			MONICA
	Yeah.  Can't wait to see him
		(she falls silent, then)
	I just saw Quincy.

			CAMILLE
	How is he?

			MONICA
	Engaged.

			CAMILLE
	To that stewardess?

			MONICA
	Yeah, you met her?

			CAMILLE
	His mother had a cookout a few weeks ago.
	He could do a lot better if you ask me.

			MONICA
	Maybe she is.

Camille looks up, studies Monica for a moment.

			CAMILLE
	I thought you were over him.

Monica shrugs.

			MONICA
	So what do I do?

			CAMILLE
	Find out where they're registered and
	send them a gift.

			MONICA
		(disgusted)
	Whatever.

			CAMILLE
	You didn't want my opinion in the first
	place, so why even ask?

			MONICA
	I asked but why does it always have to be
	so damn prissy.

			CAMILLE
	Don't curse.

			MONICA
	There you go.

			CAMILLE
	What do you want me to tell you, Monica,
	to go beat that girl up?  To go have sex
	with him?  I'm not going to do that.
	Yes, I believe thinking of other people
	is important and yes I'd rather bake a
	pie than shoot a dumb jump shot.  If that
	makes me too "prissy" for you, too bad.

Monica stares at her mother.  There's no going back.

			MONICA
	So that's why we can't get along?
	Because I'd rather shoot a "dumb" jump
	shot?

			CAMILLE
	You're the one always turning your nose
	up at me.

			MONICA
	No I don't.

			CAMILLE
	Child, please.  Ever since you were
	little you thought you were too good for
	anything I had to say.

			MONICA
	I wasn't Lena.  I didn't care about nail
	polish or lip gloss or sneaking a spray
	of your perfume.

			CAMILLE
	What was so wrong with wanting to teach
	you the things I knew could help you?

			MONICA
	Because you're pushing me to be something
	I'm not.

			CAMILLE
	So you're angry with me because you're
	standing here with your hair combed and
	wearing perfume?

Monica is busted.  It takes her a moment to come back.

			MONICA
	I'm angry because I want a mother, not
	Martha Stewart.

			CAMILLE
	Oh, yes.  The superstar female athlete
	whose mother is nothing but a housewife.

			MONICA
	That's not it.

			CAMILLE
	Don't tell me you aren't ashamed of that
	because I know.

Monica stares at her mother.

			MONICA
	I remember when I was eight years old,
	you spent like four hours cooking up this
	fancy meal.  All you'd let me and Lena do
	was set the table.  And I guess you and
	Dad got your wires crossed or something
	because he walks in with a couple of
	pizzas.  And you didn't say anything.
	You just threw the whole meal into some
	tupper-ware and tossed it in the fridge.

			CAMILLE
	I don't remember that.

			MONICA
	I do.  You never stood up for yourself.
	Ever.  If I was ashamed, it was because
	of that.

			CAMILLE
	That's ridiculous.

			MONICA
	What's ridiculous is not being a caterer
	so your husband can feel like a man
	knowing his woman's home cooking and
	ironing his drawers.

WHAP!  Camille's humiliation is immediate and she cuts off
Monica with a SLAP.  Camille curses herself for losing it.

			CAMILLE
	Dammitt, Monica!

Monica is stunned, hurt.

			MONICA
	I'm sorry.

Camille stares at her daughter, devastated.

			CAMILLE
	Is that really all you think of me?

Monica can't answer.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	When I married your father, all I wanted
	was a nice house with a big kitchen so I
	could start my catering business.  And
	then I got pregnant with Lena, and then I
	got pregnant with you.  And I put it out
	of my mind because that's what you did.

Monica stares at her mother.

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	But you want to know what day I remember?
	In high school, you getting ready for the
	Spring Dance.  I put my pearls around
	your neck, told you you were beautiful
	and you looked like you were going to
	cry.  That day I was happy I didn't have
	a catering business to run off to.  My
	family had three meals a day, had someone
	to pick up after them, and when my
	daughters went to a dance, I helped them
	get ready.  That's what I came to care
	about.

			MONICA
		(softly)
	That's all you cared about.  I must have
	played in a thousand games and I can only
	remember you being to two.

			CAMILLE
	You had your coaches and your father for
	that stuff.  It never mattered one way or
	the other if I went to your games.

			MONICA
	It mattered, Mom.

Camille looks at her daughter and is struck by the need in
her eyes.  Monica moves off the barstool and leaves.


 INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - DAY



The room looks exactly the same.  Trophies, medals, plaques.
Basketball posters and her "strong women" wall.

Monica sits on her bed, staring up at a photo of her and
Quincy, tacked up to her bulletin board, amid other photos of
her childhood.  THEY ARE EIGHTEEN, PLAYFULLY WRESTLING OVER A
BASKETBALL.

Monica slowly rises, starts taking her posters down.

INT. REHAB CENTER - DAY

Quincy sits on a leg extension machine, with his left leg
tucked under the padded bar.  A TRAINER stands behind him.

Sweat and pain coat Quincy's face and scarred knee as he
slowly lifts the light weight again, and again, and again.

INT. BANK - DAY

A long line of customers shift impatiently during the noon-
time rush.

Monica sits with a BANK MANAGER at the "New Accounts" desk,
learning the ropes.  Her hair is done, she wears a simple
dress.  Behind her, hanging on the wall, are three framed
photos of the bank presidents.  ONE OF THEM IS HER FATHER,
NATHAN.

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT

Monica stands in her room, staring out at Quincy's window.
She watches as Quincy and Kyra pack up some of Quincy's
stuff.  Quincy tries to take his basketball globe light. She
laughs, "Hell no."

INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - DAY

Camille enters, moves to Monica's garbage can, dumps the
contents into her larger bag.  Suddenly, she stops.  She
reaches into the garbage and pulls out a crumpled picture.

Camille smooths it.  It is the photo of Monica and Quincy at
eighteen, wrestling over a basketball.

CAMILLE STARES AT IT, TAKEN IN BY THE PURE JOY IN HER
DAUGHTER'S FACE.  She sits down on Monica's bed, still
staring.

INT. FORUM - DAY

In the empty gym, Quincy jogs up and down the court.  He is
still tentative on his knee, but he keeps jogging.

And then, slowly, the determination melts from his face.  His
jog turns into a walk, and then he just...stops.

INT. MCCALL HOUSE - QUINCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

Quincy stands in the middle of his room, taking in his life.
Old, worn basketball posters still line the walls.  Trophies
and awards.  USC memorabilia.  His basketball globe light.

He walks to his window, looks out at Monica's window.  Her
room is dark.

							DISSOLVE TO:

INT. QUINCY'S APARTMENT - BATHROOM - MORNING

Quincy tilts his face up to the shower head and rinses the
soap from his face.  He hears the bathroom door open.  He
shuts off the water and opens the curtain.

Kyra sits on the toilet, taking a pee.  Quincy slams the
curtain closed.

			QUINCY
	Damn, girl.

			KYRA
	What?

			QUINCY
	I don't wanna see that.

			KYRA
	Get used to it, babe.

She flushes.  Quincy steps out, grabs a towel.  A long scar
runs across his knee cap.

			QUINCY
	Brother's gonna have to start locking
	doors.

Kyra laughs as she buttons up her flight attendant's uniform.
They cross into:

INT. QUINCY'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Kyra packs up a suitcase.

			QUINCY
	So how long is this trip?

			KYRA
	Four days.

Quincy nods.

			KYRA (cont'd)
	So are you going to be the kind of
	husband who won't let his wife work?

			QUINCY
	Nah.

			KYRA
		(playfully)
	Why not?

			QUINCY
	You might be the only one with a job.

			KYRA
	Baby, don't talk like that.  Your rehab's
	going well.  You'll be back before you
	know it.

			QUINCY
	Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it.
	Busting my ass, for what?

			KYRA
	To do what you love.

			QUINCY
	I don't know sometimes.

			KYRA
	You're just scared.  I know rehab is
	hard, and you have to worry about whether
	you'll be as good as you were but you
	will be.  I believe in you.  You just
	have to get back on the court.  Like
	you'd get back on a horse.

			QUINCY
		(beat)
	A horse?

			KYRA
	Don't make fun of me when I'm being
	wonderful and supportive.
		(then)
	You belong on the court.  Just like I
	belong in the stands, looking cute and
	cheering you on.

She smiles, gives him a kiss, moves back to her packing.  Off
Quincy:

INT. BANK - DAY

Monica sits at her desk in a blouse and skirt, punching
numbers into the computer.  A man sits down in the chair
opposite her.  Monica glances up.  It's her father.

			NATHAN
	Hey, munchkin.

			MONICA
	Dad.  What are you doing here?

			NATHAN
	I was upstairs for a meeting.  I've been
	hearing good things about you.

			MONICA
	That tends to happen when you're the
	boss's daughter.

			NATHAN
	So how's the job going?

Monica forces a smile.

			MONICA
	You know.

Nathan looks at her, nods.

			NATHAN
	I think I know what the problem is.

He pulls a GARBAGE CAN HOOP from a plastic shopping bag.
Monica smiles.  He attaches it to her garbage can.

			NATHAN (cont'd)
	There.

He shoots an ugly, imaginary shot.  She laughs.

			MONICA
	You shoot like a girl.

			NATHAN
	I'll take that as a compliment.

He gives her a smile, and exits.  Monica looks at the hoop,
then crumples a piece of paper.

			MONICA
		(whispering)
	And she gets the steal.  Monica goes one-
	on-one against Jordan, she stops, pops...

Monica shoots.  The paper drops through the net.

			MONICA (cont'd)
		(still whispering)
	It's good!  It's good!

She glances up, notices a few patrons watching her.  Monica
quickly composes herself and goes back to her work.

EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - DUSK

Monica exits her car, after a long day at work.  She wears
very low heels.  But she still stumbles.  She curses, then
hears a laugh.

She looks up - Quincy sits on the grassy hill above her
house.

			QUINCY
	I remember when your mom had to beat you
	into a dress.

Monica smiles.

			MONICA
	You visiting?

			QUINCY
		(nods)
	Kyra's gone for a couple days.  Figured
	I'd keep Mom company.

			MONICA
	Who's this guy I always see her around?

			QUINCY
	Darryl.  He's alright, kinda corny.

			MONICA
	So...how's the knee?

			QUINCY
	Getting there.

			MONICA
	Strong enough to get you down the aisle?

			QUINCY
	Yeah.  Two weeks.
		(then)
	I didn't get to send you an invitation,
	but if you...

			MONICA
	That's okay.  I'm probably, you know,
	busy.

Quincy nods.  Awkward beat.

			QUINCY
	Can I ask you something?

Monica looks at him.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	You never told me why ball isn't fun
	anymore.

			MONICA
	It just isn't.

			QUINCY
	Because I'm kinda feeling that way, too.

			MONICA
	You had a rough couple years, that's all.

			QUINCY
	That a nice way of saying I rode the
	bench?

			MONICA
	And you tore up your knee.  Rehab is
	tough.

			QUINCY
	Nah.  I haven't dribbled a ball in four
	and a half months.  Maybe I miss some of
	the attention, but besides that...

			MONICA
	You're serious.

			QUINCY
	Seems like I needed a ball when I was
	trying to be like my pops...or trying to
	be better than him.  Now, I kinda think I
	need to try something else.

			MONICA
	Like what?

			QUINCY
	Maybe go back to school.

			MONICA
	Wow.

Monica stares at him, seeing a man in the boy she grew up
with.  Quincy looks away, self-conscious.

			QUINCY
	I mean, Kyra hasn't heard the school
	thing yet.
		(then)
	She'll probably say it's the painkillers
	talking.

			MONICA
	It's a trip, you know?  When you're a
	kid, you see the life you want, and it
	never crosses your mind that it's not
	gonna turn out that way.

			QUINCY
	So why'd you give up ball?

			MONICA
	Why do you keep asking me that?

			QUINCY
	Cause I don't get it.

			MONICA
	Something was just missing.

			QUINCY
	What?

Monica is too hurt, too scared to tell him the truth.

			MONICA
	It doesn't matter, alright.  Just leave
	it alone.

			QUINCY
	Find.

Monica turns, crosses to her house.  She stumbles on her
heels, kicks them off in frustration, and exits inside.
Quincy walks back to his curb.

ANGLE ON

Camille watches from the kitchen window

							DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. WRIGHT HOUSE - PATIO - DUSK

Lena sits next to Camille.  Her one year old son, L.P., sits
on the ground at her feet.  Monica sits quietly nearby,
watching.

			CAMILLE
	So you're still breast-feeding?

			LENA
	The doctor said it was okay.  Anyway, I'm
	still trying to lose some of this baby
	fat.

She quickly looks over at Monica.

			LENA (cont'd)
	Shut up.

Monica gives her a small smile.  Camille looks down at L.P.

			CAMILLE
	You might want to put a jacket on him,
	it's getting cold.

			LENA
	He's fine.

			CAMILLE
		(warning)
	Okay.

Lena sighs, rolls her eyes.  She picks up her son.

			LENA
	Come on, L.P.  Grandma says it's too
	cold.

She exits inside.  Camille makes a face.

			CAMILLE
	God.  "Grandma."

Monica smiles.  And then silence.  There is still so much
distance between them, so many misunderstanding.  Camille
stares at her daughter.  And then...

			CAMILLE (cont'd)
	You know, I'd probably be a lot more
	"prissy" in the situation than you'd
	like, but the thing I always admired that
	drove me crazy, was the fight you had in
	you.

			MONICA
	What are you talking about?

			CAMILLE
	When I said Quincy could do better, I was
	thinking about you.

Monica stares at her mom.  Camille stands and leaves.


 INT. WRIGHT HOUSE - MONICA'S ROOM - NIGHT



Monica lies in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to

sleep.  Her mind races with thoughts of her past, her

choices, her future...



Suddenly, she climbs out of bed.  She wears a tank-top and
pajama bottoms.  She crosses to her window, pulls it open and
climbs out.

EXT. WRIGHT AND MCCALL HOUSES - CONTINUOUS

Monica drops down.  She moves to Quincy's window and knocks
quietly.  Beat, then Quincy appears.  Bare-chested and in a
pair of shorts.  He looks at her, then pulls open the window.

			QUINCY
		(half-asleep)
	What's going on?

			MONICA
	We need to talk.

Quincy just looks at her.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	Please.

			QUINCY
	Hold on.

Quincy disappears for a moment, then returns, pulling on a T-
shirt.  He climbs out of his window, drops to the ground.

Quincy looks at her.

			MONICA
	You asked me what was missing.

			QUINCY
	What?

			MONICA
	From basketball.

			QUINCY
	you woke me up to tell me that?

			MONICA
	It's not fun for me anymore because
	you're missing.

Quincy stares at her.

			MONICA (cont'd)
	What I'm trying to say is --

			QUINCY
	I heard enough.

			MONICA
	What I'm trying to say is, I've loved you
	since I was eleven and the shit won't go
	away.

			QUINCY
	We haven't talked since college and now
	you wait two weeks before my wedding to
	say something like this?

			MONICA
	I know, I probably should have said it
	two weeks ago.

Quincy doesn't even crack a smile.  In fact, he glares.

			QUINCY
	You haven't changed.  You still think the
	sun rises and sets on your ass.  Well,
	guess what, it doesn't.

			MONICA
	Then why are you so upset?

			QUINCY
	Because you don't pull this on someone
	who's about to get married.

			MONICA
	Better late than never, right?

			QUINCY
	Wrong.

Quincy starts back toward the window.

			MONICA
	I'll play you.

			QUINCY
	What?

			MONICA
	One game.  One-on-one.

			QUINCY
	For what?

			MONICA
	Your heart.

Quincy looks at her in disbelief, then laughs at the
absurdity.

			QUINCY
	You're out of your mind.

			MONICA
	So you're gonna bitch up?

			QUINCY
	What's that supposed to be, psychology?

			MONICA
	I know why you broke up with me in
	college.  And not that what you did
	wasn't messed up, but what I did was,
	too.  So if you forgive me, I'll forgive
	you.

			QUINCY
	Monica, after that stuff with my dad, I
	couldn't trust anybody, okay.  I mean, I
	was lost.  So you are forgiven.  But that
	was five years ago.  I moved on.

Monica moves past him, reaches through his window.  She drops
back down, holding his basketball.

			MONICA
	Prove it.

She throws him the ball.

			QUINCY
	What will this prove?

			MONICA
	You once said the reason I beat you was
	because you wanted me to.

			QUINCY
	So?

			MONICA
	So, if I win it's because deep down you
	know you're about to make the biggest
	mistake of your life, and deep down your
	want me to stop you.

			QUINCY
	And what happens when you lose?

			MONICA
	If I lose, I'll buy you a wedding
	present.

Quincy stares at her.

 EXT. MCCALL HOUSE - DRIVEWAY - SHORT TIME LATER



Monica stands opposite Quincy.  Both are suited up in

basketball gear.



They stare at each other, ready to go to war. Monica tosses
him the ball.

		     MONICA
        Check.

Quincy tosses the ball back.  Monica drives.  Quincy's knee
is maybe at sixty percent and he can't keep up.  She scores
easily.

She walks to the top of the driveway, tosses him the ball.

		     MONICA (cont'd)
        One, zip.  Check.

Quincy rubs his scarred knee, then passes it back.

The game continues.  Monica owns the first five points easily
by exploiting Quincy's injury.

Monica drives for another lay-up.  Quincy suddenly lets go of
his fear, leaps and swats her shot.

He grabs the rebound and lays it up.  He nods intensely, as
he grabs the ball and walks back to the top of the key.

		     QUINCY
        One, five.  Check.

The game continues and now Quincy has the upper-hand, using
his size and strength.  He scores seven straight points.

The score stays close.  It is a sexually-charged battle of
wills -- Quincy pulls off his sweat-soaked shirt.  Their
bodies collide as they wrestle for the ball.  Monica yanks
off her jersey in frustration.  Her ass bumps into his hips
as she backs him in.  Her hands slide across his chest as she
guards him...

Finally, the score hits nine, nine.  Monica slowly walks to
the top of the key.

		     MONICA
        Nine, up.  Point.

She tosses Quincy the ball.

		     MONICA (cont'd)
        Check.

Quincy tosses the ball back, drops low on defense.  Monica
fakes an outside shot and Quincy bites.  Monica drives around
him.  SHE HAS A WIDE-OPEN LAY-UP.  SHE PUTS IT UP..AND IT
ROLLS OFF THE RIM.  Monica can't believe it.

Quincy grabs the loose ball and clears it.  He stares at
Monica as he dribbles in front of her.  She stares back.

He breaks for the basket.  Monica stays with him.  He goes
up.  Monica jumps, desperately tries to block his shot.
Quincy dunks on her, knocking her to the ground.  He lets go
of the rim, and tumbles to the ground also.  GAME OVER.

Silence.  Quincy stares at her.  Monica looks back.  Then:

		     QUINCY
	   (pointed)
        All's fair in love and basketball, right?

Monica struggles to fight back her tears as she picks herself up.
She slowly walks back toward her house.  And then:

		     QUINCY (cont'd)
        Hey.

Monica slowly stops, turns.

		     QUINCY (cont'd)
        Double or nothing.

Monica stares at him, wonders if she heard right.  Quincy
limps to his feet, picks up the ball and holds it out to her.

Monica slowly walks back to him.  They stare at each other.
No more egos, no more bullshit.  Just love.

In the moonlight, on the blacktop, they kiss...

						      FADE TO BLACK.
						     
 FADE IN:



INT. LOS ANGELES FORUM - NIGHT



Music is blasting, banners are waving, crowd is screaming.



Magic Johnson sits in a floor seat, watching the game.  A

REPORTER interviews him.

			SPORTS REPORTER
	So, Magic, are you contemplating another
	comeback?

			MAGIC
		(laughs)
	No more comebacks.  Tonight I'm just
	enjoying being a spectator.

Behind him, in a second row seat, a ONE YEAR BLACK GIRL sits
in a lap, bouncing, watching feet and legs ballin' on the
court.

Quincy leans down, gives the little girl a kiss, then looks
out at the court.  It's the Los Angeles Sparks and the New
York Liberty.  The WNBA.

On the court, the women line up for a free-throw.

			QUINCY
	Let's go, McCall!

Monica, sporting a uniform with Wright-McCall on the back and
the number thirty-two, looks over.  Quincy takes their
daughter's hand and waves it.

			QUINCY (cont'd)
	Go Mommy.

Monica smiles back, then steps to the line.  The referee
tosses her the ball.  Monica stares at the basket, then
bounces the ball twice, licks her lips and shoots.

						       FADE TO BLACK.

			    "THAT'S GAME"
				
END CREDITS
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