"Except for the part where you're my sister," I said.
"Since when do you care what people think?" she asked. "Besides your buttoned-up roommate."
"Her name is Kya." I grabbed Dana Maria's arm and steered her through the gathering sea of interested faces. "Why can't you call her by her name?"
"For the same reason I'm not going to put on a conservative dress to have lunch with you. That's not me. This is what I like to wear and I don't call people by their given names unless they are actually my friends," Dana Maria said.
I yanked open the door of the waiting cab and tucked my sister inside. "You're telling me you wouldn't be more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt? Or a dress with less lace and tight straps?"
My sister shrugged. "Maybe, but I've got a gig right after lunch."
My shoulders tensed. "You need a chaperone?" I asked.
Dana Maria laughed. "No thanks, baby bro. I've got my own muscle. There's nothing for you to worry about."
She changed the subject, and I ended up telling her all about the fight and the after party. I stopped before I confessed anything about Kya, but somehow my sister guessed it.
"You know she'll just drop you as soon as she finds someone better," Dana Maria said. She twisted the wrapper to her straw around her finger and pretended it was an engagement ring. "Oh, you shouldn't have gotten such a big diamond! No, I don't mind that you're a balding lawyer because you are so rich and your family is so well known. We'll get married on the 13th green, and our lives will be just like a cardigan catalog."
I wadded up a paper napkin and threw it at her. "Very funny. But you don't know the first thing about Kya. She's different than she looks."
"I'm sure she is," Dana Maria said. "The only problem is that in the end, she's going to think she should marry someone that looks just as catalog perfect as her. And, when she realizes his surface doesn't match what he's really like underneath, she’ll find out she was dead wrong."
Her dire warning chilled me for a minute before I dismissed it. Kya was different and my sister was right, I shouldn't care what other people think. "You're only saying that because of Mom and Dad."
"What do they have to do with you and your girl from the good side of town?" Dana Maria asked.
"Dad was handsome, charming even, and Mom loved him until she realized all he cared about was himself," I said. "You think she was stupid for falling for him in the first place. Like she could have known he would just walk out on us one day."
"Exactly. Mom thought she’d found someone who liked the same things, came from the same background, and wanted the same things in the future. He made her think that, but it was all just a lie. He just wanted to use her for a while, and when he got bored, he left."
My sister stopped as the waiter brought our burgers. I took my time adding mustard and just the right amount of pickle relish, not willing to say anything. No one had been hurt more by our father leaving or our mother's death than my sister. On top of the pain, she had me to worry about.
"I'm sorry, Fen. This is supposed to be a celebration. You kicked ass last night and you're on your way up. Here's to you, baby brother!" Dana Maria raised her glass of beer and toasted me.
"Thank you," I said.
"Can you beli
eve how far you've come? I remember when your fists were the size of walnuts. You couldn't knock out anything bigger than a squirrel."
"Until grade school," I reminded her.
"Flying Fists Fenton," she laughed. "I wonder what all your grade school teachers think now that you're on your way to the title fight."
"They'd probably still lecture me on staying focused."
"That's all I'm saying. I know you've got your eye on the hot agent, but you've got a title to win. You can't be getting distracted now," Dana Maria said. She punctuated her words with a French fry.
I snapped the fry out of her fingers and popped it in my mouth. "I promise I will stay focused on the title fight, Ms. Morris."
"Good. Now, I hate to cut this short, but I've got that private gig to get to." She had the waitress wrap up her mostly untouched burger so I could take it with me for a snack.
"Still starving to feed me?" I asked.
"I'm not about to dance on a double cheeseburger," Dana Maria said.
"Your last dance?" I asked. "You could retire and let me take care of you for a while, you know."