Opening
Twelve-year-old Willow Chance begins the story on the worst day of her life, when a routine stop for ice cream turns into the moment she learns her parents are dead. In the chapters that follow, the narrative rewinds to reveal her brilliant mind, her obsessions, and the lonely systems that misunderstand her, laying the groundwork for a journey through Grief, Loss, and Healing.
What Happens
Chapter 1: A Day I Will Never Forget
At Fosters Freeze, Willow sits with new acquaintance Mai Nguyen, Mai’s brother Quang-ha Nguyen, and their school counselor, Dell Duke. A genius who loves languages, Willow speaks Vietnamese with Mai and notices she’s oddly messy with her ice cream—an early signal that something is off. The foursome drives toward Willow’s house so she can check in with her parents, but her calls go unanswered—unthinkable for her family’s routine.
When they pull into the driveway, a police car waits. A female officer struggles to address Willow and instead speaks to Dell when he identifies himself as a counselor. Willow overhears, “There’s been an accident,” and knows instantly that her parents, Roberta and Jimmy Chance, are gone. The chapter closes with her wish to rewind time, anchoring the book’s exploration of grief and found family.
Chapter 2: Two Months Ago
The narrative jumps back. Willow introduces herself as an adopted “person of color” raised by two very white, very loving parents after a seven-year wait. She outlines her three obsessions: the number seven, medical conditions, and plants. Sevens frame her world—adoption day on 7/7, a house “257” miles from the hospital, timing and totals soothing her need for pattern.
Her differences mark her early. In kindergarten, she corrects a science error in a picture book and warns about salmonella on the floor, earning the label “weirdo” from peers and “highly gifted” from an evaluator. To Willow, “all labels are curses.” Her parents channel her intensity into gardening, transforming a bland yard into a living sanctuary—a symbol of Growth and Renewal and a refuge from social chaos that underscores Difference and Acceptance.
Chapter 3: The Sequoia Giant
Willow describes her gardening “uniform”: khaki shirt, tan pants with kneepads, boots, and a red hat—practical, unmistakable, isolating. She runs on precision (7 hours and 47 minutes of sleep) and remembers her only real friend, Margaret, who moved to Canada and drifted away. She prepares to start Sequoia Middle School hoping to bloom into someone who can connect—an anxious longing for Belonging and Human Connection.
Comparing herself to a rare corpse flower—magnificent yet malodorous—Willow studies teenage behavior like a scientist and chooses Gandhi-style glasses. Against her parents’ gentle counsel, she plans to wear her gardening uniform on day one, a declaration of identity and “commitment to the natural world,” even if it risks repelling potential friends.
Chapter 4: A Perfect Score
Day one implodes. Noise, crowds, and unspoken rules overwhelm Willow. A student mistakes her for a maintenance worker because of her outfit. Sick to her stomach, she calls her mother and leaves before lunch. In the days that follow, she observes the ecosystem of middle school from the margins, cataloging fashion and rituals with clinical distance.
During a standardized test in English, she decides to actually engage. She finishes in 17 minutes and 47 seconds and earns the only perfect score in the state. Rather than celebrate her, Principal Rudin suspects cheating. Unable to prove it, he pushes her into district counseling for “problem kids.” The name on the referral: Dell Duke.
Chapter 5: The Four Groups of the Strange
The point of view shifts to Dell. He’s a checked-out counselor who faked his way into a Bakersfield job he resents. Disorganized and disengaged, he invents a private taxonomy to avoid real work—the “Four Groups of the Strange”—and uses it to deliver prefab advice while shopping online for bobbleheads.
- Misfits (1, Yellow): Eager to belong, always off-key
- Oddballs (2, Purple): Proudly original, artsy
- Lone Wolves (3, Green): Angry dissenters and ranters
- Weirdos (4, Red): Unpredictable, secretive, possibly dangerous
He congratulates himself on the system’s efficiency—until Willow walks into his office. In a beat, Dell senses she doesn’t fit any box, and his neat categories begin to crumble.
Character Development
Even in five chapters, the story charts sharp turns in identity, agency, and connection.
- Willow Chance: A brilliant observer who seeks order in numbers and plants, she balances clinical logic with fierce love for her parents. Her disastrous first days at Sequoia expose her social vulnerability and clarify her hunger for belonging. The accident becomes the fault line that will test—and expand—her systems for surviving the world.
- Dell Duke: A cynical underachiever who hides behind labels, he reduces complexity to color-coded bins. Willow’s arrival unsettles his worldview, positioning him for reluctant growth.
- Roberta and Jimmy Chance: Loving, patient, and protective, they validate Willow’s intensity and nurture her garden. Their presence lingers as a stabilizing warmth that casts a long shadow after their deaths.
- Mai and Quang-ha Nguyen: Briefly present in the opening, they orbit Willow at the moment of impact, foreshadowing an improvised family structure and unexpected alliances.
Themes & Symbols
The story frames grief first, forcing every “before” to shimmer with poignancy. By opening with loss, the narrative makes memory an active space: each happy detail doubles as a reminder of what’s been taken. Willow’s drive for pattern—sevens, diagnoses, schedules—meets the chaos of death, setting up a tension between control and acceptance that powers the plot.
Institutional labeling collides with individuality. Willow rejects labels as curses, while Dell worships them as shortcuts. The book skewers systems that simplify people—whether a principal who can’t imagine an authentic perfect score or a counselor who sorts kids into colors—while honoring Willow’s meticulous, respectful way of seeing complexity.
The garden functions as sanctuary and metaphor. It’s where order yields life, not rigidity; where patience, attention, and care produce renewal. As a counterpoint to middle school’s noise and Dell’s laziness, the garden models the kind of growth the characters will need: slow, stubborn, and rooted.
Key Quotes
“There’s been an accident.” This sentence detonates Willow’s world and reorients the book around loss. It also exposes adult fragility—the officer can’t face Willow directly—pushing Dell into an accidental caretaker role that will reshape him.
“All labels are curses.” Willow’s philosophy undercuts both the school’s suspicion and Dell’s taxonomy. The line challenges readers to see how categorization protects institutions while harming individuals who don’t conform.
“A day I will ‘never forget.’” Willow’s precise, almost clinical phrasing tilts into raw emotion, capturing her dual nature: data-driven and deeply feeling. The line bookmarks the narrative’s structure—what follows explains why this day brands her life.
“17 minutes and 47 seconds.” More than a flex of genius, the exact timing shows how Willow uses measurement to impose order. The number’s echo of her seven-obsession highlights how pattern comforts her amid social disarray.
Why This Matters and Section Significance
These chapters build the novel’s engine: a brilliant, isolated girl who trusts patterns is forced into the most chaotic experience imaginable. The flash-forward creates immediate stakes, while the flashback deepens empathy, letting readers feel the weight of what’s lost. The school’s suspicion and Dell’s “FGS” reveal systems that mistake difference for danger, setting up conflicts that will push characters toward a makeshift community. By the time Willow walks into Dell’s office, the book has positioned grief, belonging, and genuine observation as the forces that will dismantle lazy labels and grow something new.