Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight (or the NBA, for that matter, lol).

Thanks so much for your reviews! I really appreciate them! I am so glad people like this fic, so…well, I don't have much else to say except here's chapter eight! And I hope everyone likes this one as much as the others.

Love and Basketball
Chapter Eight: Blue Plus Green Equals Animosity

Jasper.

The ball left my hands and floated toward the hoop.

The satisfying swish of the net met my ears, and I jogged over to retrieve the made ball from its position, bouncing on the court. I then, just for the hell of it, flipped it upward with a flick of my wrist and sent it kissing off the backboard and through the hoop once more before dribbling back out to the three point line.

The arena was still pretty empty, but then again, it was rather early. Usually, most of the fans would start to file in sooner or later. It was just a matter of time. The place would be as desolate as if a bomb just went off and then out of no where, it would be like a flood of people seethed through every crack of the place.

I sighed and shot a running jumper at the goal. This one bounced off the rim, just slightly off the mark. I collected the rebound and stuffed it back in the orange circle.

I had been at the gym for several hours already, preparing myself for the game. This one was a huge one, against the Boston Celtics. I didn't see any shades of green around, so maybe…

Oh, wait. There was one, single, solitary shade of green amongst all of the blue and white.

I dribbled absentmindedly, looking toward that very strange green shirt. It was very funny that a Celtics fan would appear this early before the game. It was almost like he wanted to get jumped earlier than he usually would.

Green Shirt was talking rather animatedly to a pretty brunette wearing the appropriate colors - a blue shirt in support of the Magic - and at one point he had to keep her from falling down the steep incline of the steps that led to the seats. I had to hold back my laughter - a Magic fan and a Celtics fan? Hopefully they weren't a couple, because that would surely cause a few ruffled feathers, I snickered to myself.

As they got closer, I realized that I knew Green Shirt and Clumsy Magic Fan.

And I knew they weren't a couple at all.

Because, despite what little I knew of Green Shirt, I knew he was more crooked than my grandpaw's walking cane.

Well, well, Miss Bella and her friend Edward have come to the game. Not that I didn't think they would. I guessed they wanted to see me in action themselves, as well as get material to go off of for the interview. Or whatever.

I looked to Bella and felt a slight sense of excited anticipation - she was going to get to watch me in a game situation. Albeit, she probably wouldn't know what was going on, but just the fact that she was there was enough to get my blood pumping.

I turned around and started another running jump shot, this time the ball sank in fluidly through the net. I got the rebound and glanced up again, this time Bella and Edward were clearly in sight, and I saw her raise her hand and wave. I continued dribbling with one hand, raising the other to greet her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her take her seat. Edward was particularly polite and let her down the aisle first.

The nervous energy coursed through my veins as I turned to shoot the ball yet again. The ball went through the net again, and I smiled. There we go, I was getting my rhythm going.

I looked at the large clock that hung from the center of the arena. Counting down to tip off, it read that I had about an hour before the game started. Huh, time flew fast when you were busy with shooting and everything. I looked up into the stands and, like I had said before, they were almost all full now. People were still filing in through the doors, wearing various shades of blue - blue shirts, blue jerseys, blue shoes… - and I felt a smile cross my features.

The arena was already coming alive, and I felt the electric tension spill around me. Looking up to the rafters, I saw the usuals from ESPN getting prepared to do their pre-game show and predictions. Usually they would have someone come interview one of the players before the game - and I figured since this game was one of our nationally televised ones, that they would be sending someone shortly.

I guessed I was lost a bit, because then a short woman with blonde hair came up and smiled gently at me. I grinned back, stopping what I was doing and walking with her to the sidelines. The camera zoomed in on us and I tried not to stare at it.

She asked me several questions - the usual: How are you going to beat the Celtics? How important is this game to your team? What do you plan on doing to help your team? - and I answered them as politely and accurately as I could.

The reporter smiled, thanked me for my time before I walked away, and then said, "Back to you."

I walked back out onto the court, and Emmett came up to me, his eyes flashing as well as his dimples, "Jazzy Pha! Coach wants to talk to us. You know the drill."

I did. Every time before the game started, before we ran out to millions of screaming people, Coach Van Gundy drags us into the locker room and give us a pep talk. Just like every other coach in the league did. So I just nodded at Emmett and jogged alongside him as we made our way back to the locker room.

Everyone was already in there, save for Dwight, who sneakily - as sneaky as a big guy could be - maneuvered himself into the locker room just after Emmett and I sat down and Coach started talking.

"I don't really have to explain how important this game is." Coach started in a quiet voice, which was rather odd for him, "Last time we played this team, we got blown out. It's time to prove ourselves!"

There were several grunts in agreement as Van Gundy continued.

"We know the offense. We know the defense." He recounted, "We also know what they're capable of. Dwight, remember to keep the ball high. If you keep it low, then that gives them the opportunity to strip it from you. Rashard, we need you to make some threes. Jasper, I need you to guard Rondo like this is finals game seven…"

He went over several other aspects we needed to do to ensure this victory against this team, and we all nodded, taking mental notes. He mentioned several things from the past game against the Celtics, telling us what we needed to watch out for - Ray Allen's threes, KG's physicality, Paul Pierce's tenacity, Rondo's quickness. I was ready, bound and coiled and ready to spring.

Coach looked at his watch, and said, "Well, it's time for you guys to run out. You've got a good twenty or so minutes before tip off."

Wow. Was it really so soon? Coach must have talked more than I realized.

"Alright, bring it in." He said, extending his hand. We all walked to the center of the room, putting our hands together and saying a chant to help get everyone pumped up. And I was more than pumped up already.

After that, we all lined up - Vince first, then Dwight, then Rashard, and then me, followed by everyone else. We walked out to tunnel, ready to run out. I jumped up and down in place several times, trying to control the frantic energy.

"Let's go!" One of my teammates cheered, though I was too enveloped in the hype to wonder who.

And with that, the Orlando Magic took the floor.

The place was even louder than it was when I had first entered the locker room. People reached down from above us on the tunnel, wanting to at least touch hands with one of us. They shouted, cheered. I heard several people shout my name, along with my teammates. We separated into two lines and started our lay-up drills.

Just before it got to my turn, I snuck a glance over at Bella, who was watching us with rapt fascination. She was seated a few rows behind where our bench would be, alongside Edward. She gave a slight smile at me and I winked quickly in her direction, trying to appear subtle.

Then I turned back to my reality. The tough orange ball was passed into my hands and I ran with it, laying it gently against the glass before taking my spot in the passing line. I felt my heart start to pound with barely suppressed excitement. I couldn't wait to take on the Celtics.

And, this time, beat them.

The shoot around lasted for the remaining amount of time between the pre-game show and the actual game. Soon, it was time for all the starters to be called out, preceding the singing of the National Anthem. The loudspeaker blared the names of our opponents, and they ran out on the court before chanting a few things, and racing back to the bench.

Then, it was time to announce the starters.

One after the other, the starting five of the Magic were called out. I was second to last, the blaring speaker shouting, "Jasper Hale!"

I ran out, giving high fives to my teammates and doing other things to get us pumped up. I could sense the adrenaline throughout the air, simmering around us like steam. I felt a smile curve my face as I bumped fists with Emmett, who I stood by after I had gotten called out.

"Ready to kick some ass?" Emmett asked me, a grin on his face.

"Always." I smirked at him.

Then, we all gathered at the bench. Coach gathered the starters around, scribbled some things on a dry-erase board that had the image of the basketball court printed on it. X's and O's, ineligible to anyone else except a basketball player who knew exactly what was going on.

Coach told us what to run, and we all nodded, understanding.

We all huddled together, determined, and said some encouraging things, shouting at the end.

The lights brightened up - they had been dimmed for the intros - and then the place was transformed into a battlefield.

We needed this game. Desperately.

I watched as Dwight moved to the center of the court, getting ready to jump for the ball. The whole place around us was alive with electricity and the chants of our fans, as well as the jeers against the Celtics.

The referee - one of three that called the game - threw the ball in the air. The two players in the center jumped for it, hands outreaching, and it was knocked my way. I caught the ball and felt excitement sizzle through me. It was always a good way to start things out when your team won the tip.

I started my way down the court, taking my time as everyone got set up. Dwight immediately posted up, reaching one mammoth hand out to call for the ball. Several other of my teammates were running about, trying to get to their positions.

I saw Dwight first, though, and he was in good position, so I made the decision to force it down to him. In one crisp pass, the ball was in his hands and he turned, keeping the ball high like Coach said, and barreled into the lane.

He was hard to stop when he got so close to the rim, and the first shot of the game was a dunk, executed perfectly, along with a foul after, giving him one free throw. He moved to the free throw line, and I could tell that the Celtics had not liked that play at all. One foul in just a few seconds in the first quarter. I know I wouldn't be happy if I was their coach.

They were lucky that Dwight wasn't took good of a free throw shooter, but he made the one he earned, putting us up three to zero at the very beginning.

Rondo got the ball and moved down court as the rest of us were setting up the defense. I waited for the speedy point guard at the half court line, crouched into a defensive position. I was determined to not let this guy get the best of me again.

He was quick, but I kept up with him as he dribbled the ball down the court. They were good at getting fast points because of Rondo. He had a way of penetrating through the defense and getting to the rim, and I had to make sure I was between him and the goal at all times. He was crafty, too, though, and that usually made it hard. But I welcomed the challenge.

My opponent zipped around, trying to find an opening that I wouldn't give him. I was alert, focused, ready and able to stop him from driving to the basket.

He passed the ball to his post player, no doubt planning on getting a goal the way I had to start the game. Hopefully our big guys wouldn't foul as his did.

They didn't. The rest of our players clogged up the paint, and with the shot clock winding down, the player with the ball was forced to take a difficult jumper just a few inches past the free throw line. The ball bounced around before sinking through the net.

Dwight got the ball and passed inbounds to me. I gathered it in my hands and looked at the clock as he ran past me to take his position in the paint.

A chill of excitement ran down my spine. The game had only just started, but I had a feeling that it was going to be a very close, very well-played game.

Pushing that feeling aside, I steeled my resolve and dribbled down the court.

The ball was in my hands again after two quarters, I passed it down on the post and ran along the outside of the three point line, hands outstretched, calling for the ball. Rondo was fast, but I could outmaneuver him if I set my mind to it.

The clock was winding down. It was the last possession of the second quarter, only a few seconds from half time and a blissful, much deserved rest. I had hardly been benched - the only time being to get a breather at the end of the first quarter. I didn't mind. I was in shape, and I could handle it.

I called for the ball. There were mere seconds left in the second quarter. We were tied, and if I got this shot off just as the buzzer rang, then it could give us the momentum we needed to start off the second half.

The ball found its way back into my hands. My feet were already set behind the three point line. I felt the strength in my legs as I jumped, shooting the ball in a confident arc toward the orange hoop.

Swish!

A big, goofy grin curled my lips as I watched the ball dip into the net just as the clock ran out.

I let out a triumphant scream, fists clenched, as my teammates surrounded me, clapping my on the shoulder and congratulating me. Emmett actually came and practically jumped on me.

If they were this excited when I nailed a three at the end of one half, then what would it have been like if it had been at the end of the game?

It scared me and excited me at the same time.

Looking up to the scoreboard, I saw that the score was 57-54. My three had given us the edge we needed before the half ran out, and I couldn't wait to get back out there as we all trailed back into the locker room, where I was sure that, no matter how good we played in that first half, that Coach would probably chew us out for all the other little things we'd done wrong - turnovers, fouls, offensive rebounds, stuff we could've done better and whatnot.

I wasn't too worried about what my coach was going to say. I was too hopped up on adrenaline to care. I could feel it pulsing through my veins. My face felt hot, and I could feel myself soaked in sweat.

Emmett handed me a towel that he had slung over his shoulder, "Here bud, you look like you just jumped in a pool."

I took the towel from his hands and immediately put it over my face, "Thanks. Though I could say the same for you."

I heard Emmett's booming laugh as I wiped the perspiration from my face and then removed the towel, looking at him. His cheeks were flushed red, and his mop of curly brown hair was matted by sweat. It wouldn't have been so funny if he had played as much as I had, but he had only gone in when Dwight went out, being our backup center and all.

"Did you see my dunk?" Emmett whispered in my ear, his enthusiasm was catching. He was like our starting center, after all. He reveled in the fun of the game, much like I did.

"I did." I gave him a slight smile. It was hard, being as I was in the competitive mood and didn't really feel like smiling, especially when we could lose our lead at any given moment in the next two quarters. "Were you trying to pull a Shaq over there?"

Emmett laughed at that, "No, do you know how pissed they'd be if I broke the backboard during a game?"

"Hey, it'd get you on a few highlight reels."

"And you would know about highlight reels, Mr. Big Shot."

I chuckled at that. "Sure, sure."

We rounded the corner and entered the locker room. Many of our teammates were untucking their shirts and letting out tired sighs as they collapsed in front of their respective lockers. I grabbed a paper cup full of Gatorade and made my way over to my locker, where I sat down and felt the tension ease from my legs.

Coach took his position on the floor in the middle of all of us. I took a swig of my drink and looked at him, carefully listening to what he was planning for us to do after half time.

He talked about different things - many of the things I had already predicted before - and I could feel my foot tapping in impatience. I wanted to get out on the court again, despite my tiredness.

Though I listened to all of what he said, I couldn't help but feel my mind wander to other things.

Things…like Bella.

I knew it wasn't very good…to be thinking about a girl during one of the most important games of the season, but I just couldn't help it.

I wondered if she was enjoying the game. I wondered if she was having a good time. I wondered if she was…watching me? Well, I figured she would've seen me if she was watching the game. Idly, I wondered if her friend had been jumped yet for his strange choice in wearing a Celtic green shirt.

I shook my head lightly, getting back into the game mode. I had to be at my best - physically and mentally - if we wanted to win against the Celtics today.

Despite my intentions, I found that every time I closed my eyes, I would see those angelic features of hers, and hope that she was thinking fondly of the game I had been born to play.

End Chapter Eight.

Whew! Well, that took longer than I thought. I just couldn't think about what I wanted to write for this chapter, and I finally got it going. So I hope that everyone likes this! I enjoyed writing an actual game scenario. Haha. I would love it if y'all would tell me what y'all thought about this chapter. Your opinions mean the world to me!

Thanks for reading!

(on a basketball related note, anyone watch the finals? that was insane! i was so glad that my Lakers won, but they did by the skin of their teeth!)