Jade West hates sports.

She thought people who played sports were a bunch of masochists who enjoyed grunting and sweating. And she hated both. But today she was sitting in the front row of the school court watching a bunch of jocks try to shoot the basket. Except it wasn't just any high-school basketball game. It was her brother Jeremiah's first game. And it was against Northridge, Hollywood Arts' rival school.

She crossed her legs and rolled her eyes. Jeremiah's teammates couldn't even shoot the ball. And the other team's players were twice their size. Why won't they let Jeremiah play already. He was one of the tallest in his team and was a decent player, even though he is still a freshman. They had a chance against Northridge.

Then, as if the coach read her mind, he pushed Jeremiah into the court and motioned for Number 17 to the bench. Too bad. Number 17 was the one of the best players and was one of her only friends, Andre Harris.

Now that her brother was playing, Jade watched the game intensely. Besides coffee, scissors, and pain (the good kind), Jeremiah was one of the only people she loved and cared about. She defended him and was on his side through and through.

Her electric sapphire-blue eyes followed Jeremiah's every movement. He was an okay player, more on defense and less offense. She silently cheered him on.

All of a sudden, the jock who was guarding Jeremiah pushed him off and slapped the ball off his hand. Jade wasn't the type to cheer or participate but this was an exception.

"HEY! Yeah, you in the striped shirt. That was a foul. Call it a foul! Why didn't you call it?" she yelled. The referee ignored her. She glared at his flabby backside.

So that's how the game went. The same player from the other school (Number 9) was always trailing Jeremiah and always managed to hit him or some sort. The referee won't do anything, and Jade would yell.

"How dare you hit my brother, idiot!" Jade screamed as Number 9 yet again elbowed Jeremiah in the stomach. This caused Jeremiah to fall and hurt his ankle. The coach called him to the bench and he limped slowly. Jade ran down and helped him immediately. Hey, there was a first time for everything. She glared at Number 9 as she walked past him. He shrugged his shoulders and tried to look innocent. She rolled her eyes and turned to Jeremiah.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly. Jeremiah nodded. "We should have that checked right away! We're leaving-"

"No, I'm fine! Let's finish the game." Jeremiah interrupted in a pleading tone. Jade sighed. "Fine." She stomped up the stairs leading to her seat.

Eventually the games ended. Hollywood Arts' team won a game and lost the second one. As their rival team, Northridge, shook hands with Jeremiah and his teammates, Jade spotted number 9 pat Jeremiah on the back. She walked up to them.

"Yeah, thanks for hurting my brother. That was well appreciated. You should probably try wrestling instead of basketball." she said, her tone practically oozing sarcasm. Number 9 was a little taller than her, around 5'11, and had long, fluffy hair and chocolate brown eyes. His tan skin glistened with sweat and that disgusted Jade.

Much to her surprise, Number 9 laughed. Usually people got offended or hurt at her rude remarks. But laugh? This jock was getting on her nerves. She glared at him (her signature killer glare) and put a protective arm around her brother. Of course, she ignored the sweat that was dripping down his neck and shoulders.

"That wasn't supposed to be funny, idiot."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt your brother or anything!" Number 9 finally replied. He looked sheepish. Jade couldn't stand him. Sure he was good-looking (she grudgingly admitted) but he was way more annoying than the word "tissue".

"Sure, just like I didn't mean to do this!" Jade stomped on his foot and spun on her heel.

"C'mon, Jeremiah, let's go. We have to get your swollen foot checked." Jeremiah wordlessly followed her, still in shock on what she did. His Number 7 jersey hung loosely on his shoulders.

From the corner of her eye, Jade saw Number 9 hold his foot and hop on his other one. Yeah that better hurt.

And again, to her surprise, he called after them.

"That was just lovely. See you in the next game, West! I'm Beck Oliver, by the way!"

Jade grabbed Jeremiah's arm and pulled him to the dressing area, pretending to ignore Number 9 aka Beck Oliver. Next game? What was he talking about. There won't be a next game.

Stupid Northridge. Stupid basketball game. Stupid Beck Oliver.

But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, a tiny part of her wanted to bump into Beck Oliver again.

/

Beck Oliver hates being embarrassed.

He was the popular, good-looking jock from Northridge High School. He was also the best player on the team, and he was the resident heartthrob. So when the Hollywood Arts girl who was dressed in black from head to toe (which unnerved him, really) embarrassed him in front of is teammates and (kind of) ruined his perfect image after their game, he was beyond infuriated. So he did the unexpected, introduced himself, and called her 'West' (he checked her brother's jersey for their last name) just to annoy her. Who does she think she is? He doesn't even know her!

Though, he couldn't help thinking, that rude girl (whom he named "Wicked Witch of the West" because of her last name) was very interesting.

And he was right about her being interesting because during the next game, which happened three weeks later, she poured coffee on his head when he tried to be friendly.

"What the heck? What was that for?" he yelled, as the lukewarm coffee mixed with his sweat and dripped down his chin.

"That," she smirked, "was for existing." Then she stalked off.

Beck heard snorts and a few sounds of laughter from his teammates. If this went on, he'd be the laughing stalk of Northridge.

"Ooh, Beck. That's the first time a girl refused you!" one of his teammates teased and hooted.

"Go goth girl!" someone yelled. Beck rolled his eyes. It was true though. She was the only girl who has ever turned him down.

"I bet you can't get her to go out with you." Ryder Daniels, his best friend, jokingly challenged. Beck started wiping his long hair.

"Wanna bet?"

/

Northridge had a couple more games with Hollywood Arts for the championships. Jade was forced to go and watch each one because of her brother...and partly because of stupid Beck Oliver. Okay, she admitted it. But not because she's interested in him. It was because she was fairly amused at his idiocy and too-confident attitude. (or so she convinced herself)

Right after the third game, Beck went up to her defiantly. His jaw was set and his steps were sure. Jade almost laughed. But instead, she smiled her signature no-teeth smile and raised her pierced eyebrow.

"What do you want, Beck Oliver?"

/

Her pierced eyebrow was raised, her arms crossed over her chest, and her lips curved into a smirk. Beck was so tempted to wipe that cocky smirk off her face with a punch, but he was a gentleman and he wouldn't hit a girl so he stood his ground.

"Go out with me."

She looked taken aback. Her pale cheeks slightly reddened and her electric blue eyes widened. Then she regained her composure and finally spoke.

"You don't even know my name, you idiot." she snapped.

"I'll find out soon enough." Beck said confidently.

"Never in a million years." she turned around and stalked off. Beck threw his hands in the air and sighed. That girl was impossible.

But Beck was determined not to lose the bet. He was going to find out what her name was. And soon.

Bored Jireh = crappy story. hope you liked it though!

Please review. I love reading your feedback and comments so please don't favorite or follow without reviewing! Thank youuu

Also, I realized (through a review) that I completely and accidentally forgot to give credit to chasingafterstarlight for the name Jeremiah West. I am so, so sorry and I didn't get to include it because I was in a hurry!