The Own Goal of the Heart

The dream from the night before was an improved replay. The championship goal was still there, but this time, the celebration was clearer. Clara wasn't just in the stands; she ran down, jumped over the barrier, and hugged him in the middle of the court.

Elismar woke up with a smile so wide that his cheek muscles ached.It was Friday. Judgment day. Interclass day.

He sat up in bed feeling invincible. Fluffy Ball stretched across his chest. Soft Paw, from his post on the windowsill, yawned.

"Good morning, my stars," Elismar whispered conspiratorially. "Here's today's plan: we go to school, survive, and then I bring the whole team to 'The Furnace.' You'll see, Clara plays as badly as we do, but she's got spirit. She's gonna teach Lester how to kick without looking like he's swatting a butterfly. And Markin's gonna learn not to be afraid of the ball with her help. Today's the day the Gentle Tigers start showing their claws."

The black cat blinked slowly, as if saying, "Good luck with that."

He got ready in record time, the good kind of anxiety making his heart beat like a samba school drumline. In the kitchen, Dona Valdi watched him with a mix of pride and amusement.

"If you had this much energy to clean your room, it'd be sparkling by now, son."

"Today the shine will be on the court, Mom," he said, kissing her cheek before rushing out the door.

He walked down the street with his head in the clouds, replaying the volley from the dream, when a voice pulled him back to Earth.

"Elismar?"

He stopped. It was Sophia. Alone. Standing on the sidewalk, waiting for him. That was about as likely as Markin saving a penalty.

"Hi, Sophia," he replied, trying to sound casual, though his brain was short-circuiting.

"I... um... was thinking about what you said yesterday," she began, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "About humiliating everyone. You seem different."

"We're playing to win," he said with a shrug. "I'm tired of being a joke."

"I like that," she admitted, and started walking beside him. "You really like soccer, huh? To put up with that team of yours..."

Elismar felt a surge of pride. "It's more than liking. It's my dream. I want to be the best in the world, play in a World Cup, win the Ballon d'Or."

He spoke with such passion that he didn't notice Sophia looking at him with genuine admiration. Nor did he notice, just ahead near the bakery, a familiar figure. Straight hair, colorful backpack, eyes he'd recognize from a mile away.It was Clara.She saw him. Saw Sophia walking beside him, laughing at something he'd said.Clara's steps, which seemed headed their way, faltered. She paused, her face closing into a mask of disappointment, and then she sharply turned the corner, disappearing from view.

Elismar felt a small question mark pop into his mind. Was that Clara? I think so. Huh.But Sophia asked him something else, and the moment slipped away.

The rest of the school day was calm. The mocking glances had been replaced by curious ones. Elismar's confidence was a shield. When class ended, he gathered his squad.

"Guys, today's mission: 'The Furnace.' Now. No excuses," he declared. "I'm introducing you to someone."

"Someone?" Ryan asked, intrigued. "A new player?"

"A major signing?" Piter joked, poking Markin's belly.

"You'll see. Let's go," Elismar said, leading the way.

They arrived at the dusty court, the afternoon sun beginning to mellow. But it was empty. No ball bouncing, no awkward laughter. Just silence.

"Huh, where's the person?" Lester asked.

Elismar looked around, his heart sinking a little. "She... we had a deal. Something must've come up."Even to his own ears, the excuse sounded weak.The image of her turning the corner earlier came back strongly.Was it because of Sophia? No, couldn't be... Could it?

He shook his head, forcing the disappointment to the back of his mind. "You know what? Doesn't matter. We train anyway. It's us against the world, remember?"

Seeing their captain's determination, the others perked up."Yeah!" Markin shouted. "Who needs reinforcements?"

They split up. Elismar and Ryan versus Piter and Lester, with Markin in goal — a position he accepted with a resigned sigh.And for the first time, it actually felt like training.Elismar, mind focused, managed to pull off a tackle he'd seen on YouTube, cleanly taking the ball from Piter.Ryan, inspired, managed to run in a straight line and pass the ball right to Elismar's feet.Lester's shot was still weak, but at least it went toward the goal, forcing Markin to make a clumsy but effective belly-save.

They left the court sweaty, tired, but with a hint of hope.

Elismar went home with a sore body and a mind divided.The joy of the training was mixed with a pang of sadness from Clara's absence.

After his shower and dinner, he retreated to his room.He closed the door, sat on the bed, and looked at his two furry confidants.

"I don't get it," he began, voice low, the morning's euphoria completely gone. "She didn't come, Fluffy Ball."

The gray cat just purred, as if offering comfort.

"We had a deal. She promised. We were gonna train... I was gonna introduce her to everyone," he continued, now speaking to Soft Paw, who watched him with piercing eyes."Was it... was it because she saw me with Sophia? But I don't care about Sophia anymore!Sophia is... I don't know, a pretty poster on the wall.Clara is... Clara is the ball, the game, the court. She's real."

He lay down and stared at the ceiling.The excitement for the interclass tournament was still there, but now it was covered by a fog of confusion and heartache.He had taken a step forward as a player, but he felt like he had stumbled and scored an ugly own goal in the most important match — the one that happens off the field.