Chapter 22
Oh, Tam, I heart you—my lover, my brother, Quinn thought as the Temps and the Miners prepared to face off in the Super Bowl at Templars Stadium. For you are my brother in arms. On this field of battle, we meet as less than friends but more than foes—rivals, former intimates who have left each other and, in leaving, stayed.
The teams emerged from opposite tunnels amid fanfare, all smoke but no mirrors to reflect the ridiculousness of the spectacle, Quinn mused. They stood at attention on opposite sides for “Our National Anthem,” as the announcer intoned. It was sung by an opera singer who had been much criticized on the web, as if those “critics” would know anything about opera, or singing the Anthem for that matter, Quinn thought with a laugh. She transcended skepticism anyway
