Full Measures (Flight & Glory, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

Stepping on a Lego was a special degree of hell that only someone with a little brother could really understand.

or stepping on one yourself when you were little, but yes.

He explained his role to us, that he would be our guide to Dad’s casualty process. He would help us through the paperwork, the ceremony, the things no one saw coming. In a way, he was our handler, sent here to be a buffer between our grief and the United States Army. I was thankful for him just as much as I hated his sheer existence.

His suit made him appear older than he really was, another thief stealing his childhood away.

that's a good line.

One by one, the speakers came up, giving their best memories of Dad. He had saved so many lives, given so much of himself to those who needed it. He had never failed to inspire me.

the death of her father isn't hitting me. she says that he inspired her, but how? in what ways? I don't KNOW anything about him, so how can I feel anything? How can I connect with this? SHOW, DON'T TELL.

“Lieutenant Colonel Howard?” The officer’s voice echoed from the silent church. Every muscle in my body tensed and my teeth ground together. “Lieutenant Colonel Justin Howard?” April’s keen wail split the silence and tears burned their way down my cheeks. I couldn’t so much as raise my hands to wipe them away. God, just stop calling his name. Please. But he didn’t. “Lieutenant Colonel Justin A. Howard?” One more time. I just had to make it one more time. “Why do they keep calling Daddy’s name?” Gus asked. To prove he’s really gone.

wait what? ...why??? His fucking casket is there.

I wanted to see him, to verify with my own eyes that he was really dead. But when his remains arrived from Dover, they came with a cutting little note attached: “These remains are not recommended for viewing.” When I got Captain Wilson alone and was able to ask the question, he danced around it until I finally got my answer. Dad was shot in the head, chest, and leg. The asshole had been so thorough there wasn’t enough of Dad’s face left to see.

yeesh :s

When April began to argue, Grams cut her off with a single arched eyebrow. “Your father died, not you. Go dress yourself, grab your backpack, and get to school.”

dude, her fucking dad died not even a month ago. give her some freaking time. She's allowed to be mopey.

His smile was lethal, a mix of boyish charm and pure sex. Sex? Like you’d even know. What the hell is wrong with you? You have a boyfriend!

oh, shut up. you don't even like your boyfriend.

Nausea gripped my stomach at the thought of doing something fun, like I was betraying Dad. I hadn’t grieved enough; I wasn’t wearing black; I hadn’t cried the requisite number of tears.

you're okay with constantly ogling josh, tho. I'd excuse it if it was written slightly better, like using sex as a way to get through your grief, but...

you doing this, anyway?” “Taking a pretty girl out on a Friday night?” His hands flexed on the wheel; he knew darn well what I meant. “Driving over two hours to take me to see my boyfriend.” Man, when I put it that way, why the hell was he doing it?

this is a good question.

“Riley wants to wait for marriage. He says it’s for me. You know, squeaky clean and perfect. He promises waiting will be worth it, and it’s important to him. It sucks, but everything will be flawless…like we planned. I guess he’s old-fashioned.”

1): BEING A VIRGIN DOESN'T MAKE YOU PERFECT AND SQUEAKY CLEAN, HOLY SHIT. 2): lol your first time is NEVER flawless, except in NA books apparently. 3): Riley's an idiot.

It clicked. Black hair the shade of which I’d only seen on one girl. My roommate. “Kayla.” Kayla was in Riley’s bed. With… “No,” I whispered, shaking my head in denial.

called it.

“You’re so damn tight. Perfect.”

WHY IS SHE SO TIGHT IF SHE'S AROUSED? JESUS.

A leggy brunette perched on a desk in front of a guy, and if he couldn’t see past the facade dripping off her, then he deserved whatever he got out of that one.

how is a girl flirting or showing interest a facade? maybe you're just a bitch.

Dave Matthews rang out from my back pocket, and I reached for my phone,

of course you listen to Dave Matthews.

“Your dad deserves to be remembered and the American people should know that he didn’t die in vain.” Her voice dripped false sympathy. Maybe a weaker person would have fallen for it. “It’s a war. No one dies in vain.”

LOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“I told you I had this. You didn’t need to come.” He leaned back against the railing next to me. “It’s okay to lose it every once in a while.” “Every once in a while is more like every day right about now, and I don’t want you seeing it.” I took a deep breath to stop any more stupidity from leaking out of my mouth. The freezing air burned in my lungs, but it felt good. “I don’t mind.” I gave up examining the grain of the railing and lifted my head to meet his dark, understanding gaze. “Don’t you get it? I mind, Josh! That’s why I told you to stay away, to give me space and time to sort this shit out!”

she's absolutely right.

“For fuck’s sake, December! You’re carrying everyone in that damn house! Someone has to carry you. I can’t just watch you suffer and do nothing.”

maybe if it was another situation i would agree, but when an embarrassing thing like this happens, how do you not get that people don't want potential partners seeing shit like this?