Lose Yourself

Lions

Em had finished working out and was about to get into the shower when Sam called. He dove for the phone and heard the sickening crunch of the screen cracking as it hit the stone tile floor. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He forced his voice to sound calm and centered. "Heyyyy."

Sam's voice was soft and low in his ear. "I was just watching your performance with Elton John."

A grin spread over Em's face. "The fact that you're calling it a performance is cracking me up."

"You look hot."

Warmth spread through Em's body, at the praise. He didn't need to see his reflection in the full length mirror to know he was blushing. "Are we gonna have phone sex right now? Cuz I'm totally down for that."

Sam just laughed. "We're not doing that. I'm at work right now."

Em looked at the clock on the stove, surprised to see it was only 1 pm. "Oh shit, sorry. Ummm, hey when can I see you again?"

Sam flipped through a stack of ungraded papers. "Next week?"

Em felt a sharp aching pain at the thought of waiting that long before seeing Sam again. "I wanna to see you sooner than that," he blurted out.

The soft low rumble of Sam's laugh made his heart flip with fuzzy feelings. Was it longing? Lust? "Do you want to go to the Lion's game with me?"

"Oh, hell yeah. That'd be great." Sam answered happily.

"OK, I'll figure out the tickets." Em felt himself relax, another date in place made him feel safer. He listened to Sam shuffling papers on the other end of the phone, imagining him at his desk.

"Hey, ummmm." Sam's voice held a note of uncertainty.

"What?"

Sam swallowed back nervousness. "I wanted to say I really like hanging out with you."

Em'a heart soared. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, he was beaming. It wasn't quite an I love you or even a let's keep going out on dates but it was something. And he would be happy with anything Sam was willing to give him. The idea of getting to have any type of relationship with Sam filled him with a thrummy joy. "Can I see you before Sunday?"

"No. This week is a mess. I'm driving up to Ann Arbor to see my daughter. We're going to buy some North Face jacket she can't live without."

"OK. Sunday then." He didn't say it's a date because he didn't want to remind Sam that they'd only agreed to 5 dates. The game would be number 4. He needed about 500 more dates with Sam.

--

Sam had been to dozens of Lions games but nothing in his life could have prepared him for attending a game with Marshall Mathers.

He had parked in the crowded parking garage and walked to prearranged area where Em and his team were waiting. Rex and a man who was introduced as Big Dave were wearing bulletproof vests and dark glasses. Heads down, they entered the stadium through an unmarked door and were led through a series of stairways. Along the way, security people greeted them with nods and waves but no one spoke.

And then they emerged. The stadium lay open before them as they walked into the box seats. Heaters pumped warm air up and over them, staving off the chill of winter air. Sam was handed a beer by Em's oldest daughter, Bailey. She was snapping pictures of the snack table, posting them to Instagram with the seriousness of a museum curator. All the snacks matched and the beers were a brand Sam didn't recognize. Were the refreshments part of a branding deal? Did Em have a potato chip endorsement contract? It seemed weird, especially since Sam knew that Em rarely ate anything approaching a snack and had been sober for over a decade.