Jake West Basketball Novels & Stories

Jared asked. “Fine, but I missed you. How was your day?” MJ asked. “The same.” Jared said. “Are you trying out for baseball, or just sticking with football?” MJ asked. “I’m going to focus on just football, education, and you.” Jared responded. “Good answer.” MJ smiled. “How about you?” Jared asked. “I’m just going to cheer.” MJ said. Jake got a football scholarship cause he’s very good. He also had a 3.5 grade average.

she declared, and I felt dread run down my spine, not expecting that Janet Weston was in this class. “Is she your brother’s mate?” Tristan asked, as everyone looked shocked to hear that I was mated to Jacob Weston. They knew him even though he was an Omega. He was a top player on the White Hills Basketball Team. “No,” I quickly refuted, before Janet could spew more rubbish. “Jacob and I are not mates,” I said, but my heart ached violently as I said that. To my shock, I coughed up blood and the students looked at me accusingly.

“Aye. You ready for Friday?” Jackson took a drink. “Always.” “Westbrook is coming in with a new lineup. Their point guard is supposed to be something.” “I know.” Another drink. “I’ve watched the tapes.” I looked between them and then back at the screen. “You have a match on Friday?” Brandon looked at me. “Westbrook University. Big one. You coming?” “To watch you run around a court?” I reached into the cookie box. “Maybe.” He grinned. “Maybe?” He shifted toward me slightly. “You should be in the bleachers. Front row.”

I'm going to beat his arse when I see him. The cheerleaders are on the field, getting ready to do their routine. They start to perform their routine and I have to say, our cheerleaders nailed it. They did all of that with only a few hours of training. I cheer along with our crowd. Shortly after their performance, both teams jog out onto the field and the whole bleachers erupts into cheers. I notice Jake on the bench while the other lads take their positions on the field. "I still cannot believe Jake is playing. What is he thinking? Is he even thinking?" I ask Wes and he throws his hands in the air. I look back at the field while shaking my head. I cleaned his wounds and patched everything an

From then our friendship started. Anyone can ask me why I don't like him. But that's not true. I like him. I really do. I just don't like him in a romantic way. There is no doubt he is handsome. Many girls have crush on him. Even a girl who was six years younger than him, once sent him love letters for a whole year. Jake plays cello. He plays basketball as a shooting guard. He's respectful to his parents. He has his own library consists of five thousand books. He's hot. He can speak in six different languages. In my word, he's a freak. But others think, he's perfect.

Jake is the quiet, smart kid of this team, he for some reason looks up to me and while this might appeal to others, it makes my stomach clench. “The ‘day’ is almost here, we have to eliminate every possibility before we can dismiss it as a coincidence.” I tell him, leaning over Jake’s computer and looking through Jesse’s records myself, this time I avoid looking at his picture. He grew up in a small town far south, and after high school he hasn’t gone back, I wonder why. No college attended as well. “Free lance art curator, is that an actual thing?” I ask, still reading. Jake makes a small noise at the back of his throat, adding no comment.

The championship game had just ended with a stunning victory for the high school basketball team. The star player, 18-year-old Jake, had scored the winning shot. His mother, Rebecca, 39, had been cheering louder than anyone in the stands. Rebecca was a stunning single mom — curvy, with long auburn hair, full breasts, and a warm, confident smile that turned heads. She had raised Jake alone and was incredibly proud of him. After the game, the team coach, Coach Marcus Reed, 42, invited the players and parents to a victory celebration at his house.

"I told you, I’m not signing anything until I see the bike specs for the debut." Jake set his coffee cup down with a sharp clack. "The specs are industry standard, Drake. You’re lucky they’re even looking at you after that stunt in East Town. You need a win, not an attitude." "A win?" Drake finally looked up, his eyes flashing with a resentment I knew all too well. "Is that what I am to you now? Just a PR recovery project?" Jake’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous stillness settling over him. "I’m trying to ensure you have a career. If you’d rather spend your time acting like a delinquent, I can easily withdraw the funding."

The fact that he decided to to not tell uncle jack, didn’t mean he’d let it go. Tried to squeeze the hard ball to keep from running out and punching him in the face. The words sounded like a threat. “Jacob.” David’s voice made me jump. David was a senior and we had about five classes together and he plays basketball too. He stood in the middle of the court, with a look of concern on his face. “Okay there, Hale? You’ve been squeezing that ball way too hard.” “Yeah, sorry. I’m okay.” He didn’t look convinced, but he picked a ball anyway and started throwing. “You could take a break if you’re up for practice today.”