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[…

“When I was little,” the young countess began, “my parents wanted to enroll me in the conservatory. It was considered fashionable to do ballet. I was six years old. Apparently, I was quite talented…”

“How lucky!” Samira interrupted. “Will you give me lessons? I’d really love to learn to dance. I’d look good wearing a tutu and ballet flats!”

She laughed.

“Okay, girls,” Jeremy chimed in teasingly, “let us know when you’re done talking about clothes!”

Samira sighed with amusement, and Eloise gave a knowing wink, meaning something like, “We’ll have to continue this conversation another time…”

“But I don’t think I was cut out for it,” Eloise added, addressing everyone.

“Why?” Gabriel asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t dislike it, but I quickly realized I was dancing to please my parents, not because I was passionate about it. I hadn’t chosen it. For them, it was an activity fit for a young countess, and they didn’t care whether I liked it or not.”

“That didn’t stop you from doing something else on the side that you like more,” Tag chimed in.

“The problem was finding an activity as noble as dancing. I suggested electric guitar and drums, but my parents laughed in my face. And don’t even get me started on boxing and karate. Actually, I think I was looking for the activity that would shock them the most. My rebellious side, probably…”

She smiled, looking down.

“It’s hard to say, but I think I didn’t want to be like them.”

“And how did you manage to get away with street soccer?” Samira asked.

“It’s a long story,” Eloise sighed. “It happened gradually…”

(Two years ago) *********************

Eloise's gaze travels through the large bay window of the dance studio on the top floor of the conservatory. Every week, she watches the group of boys playing soccer in the vacant lot next door. "At least they seem to be having fun," she thinks to herself. Thankfully, the end of class is approaching. A few more entrechats and the teacher let them go.

"You seem rather pensive lately, Eloise," the teacher says before the young countess is done changing. "You're not paying attention."

"You don't know the half of it," Eloise wants to reply. Instead, she mumbles:

"Yes, I am, madam. It's just that I'm a little tired..."

Once outside the building, she looks around for the Rifflers' limousine. Antoine, their chauffeur, is running a little late. It's not like her, but she might as well make the most of it… She approaches the field where the boys are playing soccer. One of them, one of the two goalkeepers, quickly notices her. Momentarily leaving his goal, he approaches her and starts a conversation.

“Do you want to play with us?” he asks.

“No!” she replies, laughing. “I don't know how to play soccer.”

“The rules are very simple. I'll teach you, if you want…”

“But I'm a girl. It's a boys' sport, isn't it?”

“Nonsense! I know plenty of girls who play soccer.”

Eloise watches with interest this boy her own age who speaks to her as an equal. An important detail: she finds him extremely attractive. And it seems the feeling is mutual.

Unfortunately, this moment of distraction proves costly for the young man. Turning towards Eloise, he doesn't see the opposing attack coming. When his teammates shout at him to watch out, it's already too late: the ball has pierced his goal.

Eloise bursts out laughing, soon joined by the unfortunate goalkeeper who doesn't even seem to hear the reproaches his team is hurling at him.

A honk of the car horn behind Eloise tells her that Antoine has arrived. She gives the boy a small wave and heads towards the Rifflers' car.

"Hey!" he calls out. "I'm Eddy! I'm here every Wednesday!"

The following week, Éloïse waited for Antoine to leave, then she exited the conservatory and headed towards the vacant lot. She'd had time to think and had come to a decision: from now on, her Wednesdays would be filled with soccer. Eddy was there, behind his goal, and he welcomed her with open arms.

"I was wondering if I'd ever see you again," he said. "Aren't you dancing today?"

"No. I came to learn how to play soccer."

"My friends have arrived yet. I can show you a few things, if you like."

That day, Éloïse discovered a new vocabulary: free kick, penalty, and so on. Eddy also taught her the techniques of counterattacks and offside. And, of course, he taught her how to effectively guard the goal.

"Did you enjoy it?" Eddy asked her at the end of this first session. "Will you come back?"

“Of course,” Eloise replied with a broad smile. “The teacher is so nice…”

In just a few weeks, the young countess made spectacular progress. She could dive without hurting herself, parry a lob, and return the ball with her foot.

“Hey! The student will soon surpass the teacher!” Eddy whispered, proud of his coaching.

“All thanks to you!”

*********************

One evening, the Count and Countess Riffler were hosting a grand reception at their sumptuous villa overlooking Maryport. Eloise’s parents were celebrating the inauguration of a luxury residence they had financed. Eloise watched the parade of evening gowns and tuxedos with a mocking air. “I’ll never dress up like that,” she thought to herself. Luckily, her grandmother was there too, and they both found this ridiculous charade amusing.

“Do you see that one, with her bun?” "Eloise asks. It looks like she's going to fall over backward, it's so big!"

"My dear, I've come to learn that looking a fool can’t kill you. I've never seen such a grotesque hairstyle!"

The evening was well underway when suddenly, a clamor rose from the street. An eerie silence fell over the gathering. Taken aback, the count hurried to whisper something in the mayor's ear. The mayor immediately stepped aside to make a call on his cell phone.

A few minutes later, police sirens wailed throughout the neighborhood. A few shouts drifted through the walls of the Riffler estate. Orders were shouted. Then calm returned, and the reception resumed as if nothing had happened.

Intrigued, Eloise headed toward the entrance gate to try and find out more. There she found Antoine, along with some other drivers.

"Antoine, what happened? What did these people want?"

"They lived in the building that was demolished to build the residence we're inaugurating today."

"So?"

“They’re just ordinary people. They were evicted with the promise of new, more comfortable housing. And to this day, they still haven’t been offered anything.”

“What? They’ve been homeless for over a year? That’s not fair! I can’t believe Dad could do such a thing!”

Furious, Eloise goes back to her grandmother and repeats what their chauffeur has just told her.

“And he couldn’t think of anything better to do than call the police to evict them!” she adds. “All so as not to disrupt his little party!”

Later, when the last guests have gone home, the count approaches his daughter, who is sitting in a garden chair next to her grandmother. He looks angry.

“Eloise, I need to talk to you.”

“Me too,” she replied immediately.

“The director of the conservatory, who was here tonight, asked me why you haven’t been attending dance classes for over a month. Can you tell me what you do every Wednesday afternoon?”

“I’ll tell you when you’ve rehoused all those people who came to protest outside your windows tonight!”

The count was expecting anything but that answer. He was speechless.  Furious, Eloise got up and stormed to her room, without another glance at her father. The count then turned to his mother, who was glaring at him from her wheelchair. Granny Riffler’s gaze was dark.

“What you did is beyond words,” she told him. “Sometimes I’m ashamed to be your mother.”

At that, with a press of the button on her wheelchair, she left the count alone on the lawn, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

***********************************************************************

“It was that evening that my grandmother decided to stop talking,” Eloise concluded.

“And you, were you able to continue playing football?” Gabriel asked.

“No, my parents forbade me from seeing Eddy and his gang again. The lockdown was severely curtailed,” she joked. “But on one front I succeeded: all those people were eventually rehoused.”

“And for the past two years, you haven’t tried to see this Eddy again?” Tag asked, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I managed to go back to the vacant lot once before I met you. His friends told me he’d left Maryport. But don’t worry, Tag, I eventually forgot about him…” she laughed.

...]