Full Measures

by Rebecca Yarros

  “Sleep,” she murmured. “I just want to sleep.”

  Her eyes closed, and she was gone as soon as she said the words. My fingernails bit into my palms where I clenched my fists. I wanted to let loose a deafening scream, but that would be childish. About as childish as the burning green envy twisting my stomach into knots. I wanted the sweet escape she had.

  I pulled her purse off the peg in the mudroom and emptied the contents onto the kitchen counter. Her wallet, sunglasses, keys, and the giant black notebook she lovingly called “The Brain,” all appeared before me. I opened The Brain up to January and saw that Gus had hockey beginning again this afternoon. The other dates in the calendar seemed inconsequential, seeing as I wouldn’t be here for them. April needed to figure this out quickly.

  One more week. One more week here in this grief-ridden house and I could return to college. Kayla had already flown back to Boulder from visiting her parents in Massachusetts. I’d be back at the parties, the mixers, and classes. I wouldn’t have to think about whether or not April was up for school, or if my mother had eaten that day. I could be with Riley.

  He hadn’t been around much. He always apologized profusely, but I knew the awkwardness of this house was nothing he was prepared for, even though he’d been a part of this family for over three years now. He wanted everything to be normal, the way it was in Boulder, and I did, too. The problem was that normal wasn’t an option for me anymore, but he hadn’t really shown up for me the last two weeks, so he didn’t know that.

  I wasn’t sure normal would even be there when I got back to Boulder.

  “Just take her debit card,” Grams commented from across the counter. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t noticed she’d crept in. “You know better than I do what this house uses, so you take yourself to that store.”

  I showered, dressed, dried my hair, and grabbed my keys and Mom’s wallet on my way out the door. “And December,” Grams interjected, “call up that boyfriend of yours and get out of the house tonight. That’s an order.”

  “Uh-huh,” I called back absentmindedly.

  The grocery store was pretty empty as I tossed a bag of red apples into the cart and hunted for the pomegranates April loved. I moved on to Mom’s coffee creamer and included the cookies Gus craved. Item by item, I filled the cart until it took my full body weight to turn it, and then I had to figure out where to put the milk.

  Yeah, that had to be enough, because nothing else would fit in the cart. My phone buzzed.

  Kayla: Can’t wait to see you next week!

  The feeling was mutual. In ten minutes alone she could make me forget anything was wrong. She was magnetic, vivacious, and my best friend in Boulder.

  Ember: Man, do I need you! Let me know if you have time to swing down to the Springs before start of term. If not, I’ll catch you there!

  Kayla: Will do! Smooches!

  Ember: Smooches!

  Smooches was a Kayla thing.

  I paid for my groceries, smiling as I thought of Josh paying for my cake. I wanted to see him again, but Riley would have a cow. He knew all about the crush I’d had on Josh freshman year. Hell, every girl had had one. Josh had been forbidden, untouchable, and a little dangerous, if those rumors about street racing were true. Talk of him getting kicked out of his previous school compounded with bad-boy racing, a harem of willing girls, and the legend that was Josh Walker was pretty much a given. Not that I had to worry about Josh; he didn’t exactly look my way. Ever.

  He’d looked at plenty of girls though. I’d seen girls on his arm every day, and never the same one for long. If Josh had been interested in a girl in high school, there was only one reason. Even if I wasn’t with Riley, there’s zero chance I’d set myself up to be taken down by a player like Josh. Besides, I’d always be with Riley.

  I loaded the groceries into the trunk and headed to Starbucks for an afternoon fix.

  As the barista filled my order from the drive-thru window, I opened my sunroof and tilted my face back to the warmth. The January air was frigid, but the sun stroking my face felt delicious.

  It was the first time anything had felt good since . . . well, notification.

  A smile spread across my face as the scent of my salted caramel mocha filled the car on the drive home. Maybe Grams was right; I needed to get out of the house and remind myself that life still waited out there.

  A dozen or so trips later, I had the bags spread out in the kitchen, the contents spilling onto the counter. I heard the door open a scant second before Gus hit the entryway, a cacophony of stampeding feet to the kitchen. “Cool!” he called out, snatching a box of Fruit Roll-Ups from the counter. “Snacks!”

  I ruffled his hair and took his backpack, amazed it was already three. “Homework?”

  His expression fell. “Yeah.” His face puckered up like he’d tasted something sour. “Do I have to?”

  “Yep! You have hockey in an hour, so get it done.” I poured him a glass of orange juice and set it on the counter before putting away the groceries.

  Two grimaces and three broken pencil tips later, Gus finished his homework, and I finished making a sandwich. “Hey, take this up to Mom if you’re done.”

  “Gotta scram!” He snatched the plate and ripped through the upstairs in a flurry of activity. Gus had two speeds: full throttle and asleep.

  I cracked open a bottle of water and congratulated myself on a great grocery trip.

  The door slammed, accompanied by the swift click of heels on the floor. April sashayed into the kitchen, dropping her backpack, purse, keys, and phone on the island I had just cleared off. I bit back my immediate need for her to clean off her crap. Hey, was that purse new?

  “Look who I found outside,” she sang, arching her perfect eyebrows at me. She took the cold bottle of water out of my hand and headed up the back stairs.

  Josh Walker stood in my kitchen, leaning against the counter in jeans, a CU hoodie, and backward black hat. Holy shit, he looked freaking edible. How had I missed how hot he was the last two times I’d seen him? And what was he doing in my kitchen?

  “Hey, Ember.” He smiled.

  “Josh.” I was unsure I could say anything else and not jump him, but I went ahead. “What are you up to?” I put the island between us, for his own safety.

  “Just grabbing Gus for practice.” 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!

  “That’s . . . um . . . really nice of you.”

  “I figured your mom wouldn’t be up for it yet, and Gus has been itching to get back out there.” His understanding softened me even further. It was one thing to lust after him, but quite another to find myself . . . liking him as a person, not just a hot body. After about a minute of me staring wordlessly, he raised his eyebrows in question. “So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, motioning to the pile of paper bags I’d accumulated.

  “Um . . .” My mind raced through the ingredients I’d bought. What was I going to make? Chicken? I didn’t buy any. Fajitas? No steak. I sighed in exasperation and smiled. “Cookies.”

  A laugh tumbled from his lips.

  “I went shopping, I swear!” I laughed, holding my head in my hands. “I bought all the food everyone likes, but nothing we actually needed!” The laughter wouldn’t stop, and my shoulders shook as I let go. “We have coffee creamer, but no coffee, and tortillas but no cheese.”

  Josh’s laughter mingled with mine. He reached over and pulled my hand from my face, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to see you smile, Ember.” The nerves in my skin short-circuited where he touched me.

  My smile slipped. Was it too soon? Am I allowed to laugh? As if on cue, Gus scrambled in from the garage, toting a bag of gear bigger than he was. “Ready, Coach?”

  “You got it, little man,” Josh answered, slipping his hand from mine. He sent me a smile that made me forget my own name. “Later, Ember.” Good thing he reminded me. />
  I nodded, doing my best not to look too freaking captivated by him. “Seat belt on, Gus, okay?”

  Josh didn’t mock or patronize me, just nodded his head once. “You hear that, Gus? Seat belt’s on you.”

  The door shut behind them, and I whipped out my cell phone, needing my anchor and a quick reminder that I wasn’t allowed to think naughty thoughts about Josh Walker.

  Ember: Hey, honey, what are you up to tonight?

  Riley: Not much, just missing you.

  A familiar sweet pressure settled in my chest.

  Ember: Feel like springing me tonight? I think I’m ready to rejoin civilization.

  A few minutes passed before his reply buzzed my phone.

  Riley: Man, babe, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have come up to Breck.

  Ember: You’re back in Breckenridge?

  Riley: Up here with a bunch of the guys, thinking of having a party.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that one, so I grabbed another bottle of water. A few swallows later, my phone buzzed again.

  Riley: Party is on. Sorry, babe, or I’d come down, but I can’t leave these animals with the cabin.

  Riley was having a frat party. A freaking frat party.

  Ember: Don’t worry about it.

  Riley: Love you!

  I shook my head, not bothering to respond. I shot Sam a quick text, but she was up in Denver for the night with her mom.

  A freaking frat party. I grabbed the nearest sponge and tore into the mess that littered the kitchen. He couldn’t even be bothered with me. Weren’t we supposed to have the perfect relationship? Everything had to be pure and white on paper for his “future political career.” Where was Mr. Perfect tonight? The kitchen counters received an angry bleaching, and then I attacked the cabinets before moving onto the floors, the refrigerator, and even the shelves of the pantry. No surface was safe from my wrath.

  Sweat beaded my forehead by the time I finished almost three hours later, throwing the sponges and gloves into the sink with a little too much zeal. I still didn’t feel better.

  “It smells like lemons.” Gus grimaced, his sneakers squeaking on the wet floor as he hauled his hockey gear back to the laundry room. Mom trained him well.

  “Lemons and pizza.” Josh laughed, setting down three huge pizza boxes on the kitchen island. “As good as cookies sounded, something told me you were missing a few food groups.”

  I blew a loose strand of hair from my face, his smile too contagious for my own good. “And pizza has all the food groups?”

  He reached out, tucking the strand of auburn behind my ear, his fingers grazing my neck by accident. Or, at least I convinced myself it was. “Pizza is the exception to every rule.” He didn’t step back, but stayed within inches of me, and everything in my body became aware of how close he was.

  “Of course.”

  We stood there, staring at each other in a charged silence. There was nothing awkward about being quiet around Josh. No pressure to fill the silence or find something witty to add, but man, the air hummed with electricity.

  “Ah, Mr. Walker!” Grams patted him on the back as she came into the kitchen. “My granddaughter needs to get out of the house, and her boyfriend has yet to do anything about it.” I heard an as usual slip out under her breath. “Could you haul her out of here for me?” Blood rushed to my cheeks, announcing my mortification. It’s like she knew he’d blown me off. Or maybe she’d just expected it?

  “Ma’am?” Josh asked with a tilt to his head, and a curious gaze tossed my direction.

  “She’s turning into a hermit, Mr. Walker. I firmly expect cats to begin arriving at the doorstep at any moment. Please, do the world a favor and take her out.”

  “Where’s Riley?” Josh’s mouth turned down. Double mortification.

  “Breckenridge, throwing some frat party.” Oh, was that a twinge of bitterness slipping through my voice?

  “Mmmhmm.” Grams sighed.

  He nodded once, his eyes unfocused. “Right.” A myriad of emotions I couldn’t place skated across his face, changing the landscape in small, instantaneous, meaningful ways. “Want to crash it?”

  A wave of excitement hit me. Ooh! Surprise Riley! But common sense and reality got the best of me. “I shouldn’t really go that far.”

  Grams sighed. “Nonsense. Josh, she’ll be ready in an hour with an overnight bag. I’m assuming I won’t be seeing you until tomorrow. Just grab the key and stay at your parents’ cabin.”

  The cabin had been Mom’s forty-fifth birthday present from my father; his one splurge to prove they would retire here, and she wouldn’t have to move anymore.

  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. “I just don’t want to. I’m not ready.”

  “Neither was your sister. Did you really think I would go easier on you?” She arched her eyebrows and dismissed me, turning back to the kitchen.

  Well, I guess that was settled. Grams had spoken. To the party we were going.

  Chapter Four

  Two hours later, we wound through the mountains in Josh’s Jeep Wrangler. He insisted he drive, but let me control the radio. Given the grimace on his face when I started playing country, I think it was punishment enough.

  “I’m glad you don’t have the motorcycle anymore. That would have been hell in the snow.”

  A small smile crept across his face. “What makes you think I don’t still have it?”

  “They’re dangerous.”

  “They’re fun.” He swung the Jeep into the oncoming traffic lane, passing the Subaru with Texas plates in front of us. I swallowed a protest at the speed he did it at. It was freaking snowing, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He eased off the gas once he pulled back into our lane.

  “Is it true?” I asked, sliding a glance at him. “About all that illegal racing stuff in high school?”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, flexed. “I left a lot of things behind when we moved from Arizona. It’s the benefit of moving. You get to start over, and what you used to do doesn’t define you anymore, or at least it’s not supposed to.”

  Didn’t I know it. We’d moved more times than I had fingers to count. His phone buzzed on the console between us, and a discreet glance revealed the name, “Heather.” Yeah, I guess not much had changed on the girls-chasing-Josh front. It was a good reminder.

  “Looks like you’re wanted.”

  A smirk played at the corner of his lips. “Sure, by the ones not worth chasing.” He didn’t try to read the text, or even ask me to do it for him. He ignored it completely.

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why are 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?

  “Because it’s what you need.” His eyes didn’t leave the road, so he couldn’t notice the way I studied his profile in stunned silence. The cut angles of his face leaned more toward Grecian, less all-American than I originally thought, but that mouth of his . . . I shook my head to clear it of the thoughts I should not be having, especially with a text from Heather sitting between us. “Why are you with Riley, anyway?”

  Well, that sure snapped me out of my Josh-watching. Riley. Right. “Because it’s what we do.” Once it was out of my mouth, I realized how stupid it sounded. “That came out wrong. That’s not what I meant.”

  “Defensive much?”

  I looked back to the road, only visible by the headlights. The snow falling softened everything around us, leaving us secluded. “I just meant that we have a plan, and we stick to it. We’ve been together over three years, and we have two more before graduation. Then Riley wants to go to law school so he can prep for politics. He wants to get married before law scho
ol.”

  “Seems to be a lot of Riley in that plan.”

  White hot frustration crept up my throat like acid, and I clenched my fists in my lap. Who was Josh Walker to question our plan? “There’s a lot of me, too.” Ouch, that did sound defensive. “I mean, I’m the one who wants to get married then, because I can’t see us going another few years before we finally have s— ” I abruptly cut myself off. Heat stung my cheeks. The car was dark, so he couldn’t see, couldn’t possibly know I was the exact shade of red as his Jeep’s paint job.

  “Have what?” he questioned.

  I didn’t answer.

  He snapped his gaze to me, eyebrows arched in surprise. “You’re telling me that in three years, you haven’t had sex?”

  “Eyes on the road!” I countered. He stifled a laugh and turned back to driving. My hands flexed open, closed, open, closed. “I can’t believe I just said that. You can’t say anything!”

  “Are you a wait-for-marriage kind of girl?” There was no mocking in his tone. “It’s cool if you are, it’s just that three years is a long time to a guy.”

  I shook my head. I’d already said this much, what was the harm in finishing the thought? Besides, it’s not like we ran into each other on campus or anything. “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.”

  “You don’t want to wait?”

  This was crossing the line, so I shook my head in response.

  His eyes raked down me briefly. “Riley must be a fucking saint.”

  I hated how good that made me feel. It was Riley’s compliments I wanted, right? I’d been careful when I dressed tonight; after all, I’d had a plan, too. I was done waiting. What was the purpose when you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring?

  My skinnies were tucked into my black boots, and I rocked a lacy camisole under a belted, low-cut gray sweater that Riley liked. My hair was up, the auburn mass quickly piled in a messy bun, but I’d been patient with my makeup. I had to stun him.