Opening
A cafeteria humiliation explodes into a turning point as Jack Masselin reels from a public punch and Libby Strout refuses to be anyone’s punchline. In the fallout—principal meetings, unexpected confessions, and a shared punishment—both teens start seeing each other more clearly. By the end, a single sentence from Jack’s little brother gives Jack a mission he can’t ignore.
What Happens
Chapter 26: Jack
Jack comes to on the cafeteria floor, jaw bleeding, faces closing in like a nightmare he can’t escape. A guy in a beanie—he thinks it’s Dave Kaminski—hauls him up, laughing, as Caroline Lushamp—almost certainly Caroline Lushamp—screams at Libby. Dizzy and ashamed, Jack says what no one expects: he deserved the punch.
The mob swells. Jack’s prosopagnosia spikes his panic and his Loneliness and Isolation; he can’t pick out anyone, not even his own brother, only a childhood nickname floating up from memory. Mrs. Chapman, his dad’s mistress, checks his face. Jack stares her down, cold. In the blur of strangers, only Libby stands out—sharp, undeniable—marking the first time Jack truly practices Seeing Beyond Appearances.
Chapter 27: Libby
In Principal Wasserman’s office, Libby sits with her dad, Will Strout, across from Jack and his mother. The setting triggers a flashback: being pulled from an assembly to learn her mom was in the hospital. Public shame and private grief collide. Jack tries to slide through on charm; neither Libby nor the principal buys it. When asked if Jack’s grab was sexual, Libby watches his facade crack. Though furious, she answers honestly: she felt humiliated, not assaulted.
Talk shifts to the cruel bathroom graffiti about Libby. A photo is produced. Everyone assumes Jack did it—until Libby claims the words as her own. “Because someone was going to write it,” she says, explaining she chose to be the hunter instead of the hunted. Her confession reframes the room and embodies the brutal calculus of Self-Acceptance and Body Image. Jack meets her eyes and, for a second, understands.
Chapter 28: Jack
While they wait for the verdict, Libby asks why he targeted her. Jack dodges the truth about the “Fat Girl Rodeo” and calls it “self-defensive shittiness”—the way fear makes people strike first. Principal Wasserman brings them back and lays out the punishment: no suspension, but daily counseling in “The Conversation Circle” and school-based community service—together. Jack offers to take the fall alone; Libby shuts him down: he can’t be both villain and hero.
At home, Jack gets it from all sides. His mother rages; his father is quietly disappointed. On his phone, messages pile up: Bailey Bishop sobs at his cruelty, Caroline centers herself, and Kaminski texts congratulations for “winning” the rodeo and suggests a “victory meal.” The message confirms the bet, exposing just how far Jack has fallen.
Chapter 29: Libby
In the car, Will suggests homeschooling again. Libby insists she’s staying and admits she punched Jack. Will bursts out laughing. The two of them laugh together until the sting fades, a rare return to ease between them.
Will tells her not to let Jack live in her head. The support steadies her. Libby looks down at the words on her shoes—“You can’t stop living”—and decides she’s going back to school tomorrow, on her own terms.
Chapter 30: Jack
Jack finds his little brother, Dusty Masselin, blasting the Jackson 5—Dusty’s tell that he’s upset. Jack goes goofy, dancing to “Rockin’ Robin,” until Dusty, a perfectionist about choreography, can’t help correcting him. They dance in sync for a breath, then the music stops.
Dusty demands to know why Jack did something so “shitty.” Jack repeats what he told Libby but adds the truest part: being around someone comfortable in their own skin can make you hate yourself more. He promises never to be cruel to Dusty. Dusty looks him dead in the eye: “You need to make it right.” The sentence lodges in Jack’s chest and becomes a plan.
Character Development
Both teens step out from behind their defenses. Libby reclaims control of her story without surrendering her principles, while Jack’s pose as the charming rule-breaker collapses, forcing him to confront the harm he’s caused and the emptiness underneath.
- Libby Strout
- Reclaims power by owning the bathroom graffiti before anyone can weaponize it.
- Balances courage with fairness when she refuses to label Jack’s grab as sexual.
- Chooses forward motion—returning to school and to herself—over retreat.
- Jack Masselin
- Admits, aloud, that he deserves the hit, cracking his cool-guy armor.
- Names his pattern as “self-defensive” cruelty and sees how it hurts others.
- Accepts a moral directive—make it right—that redirects his arc toward repair.
- Will Strout
- Models steadfast, nonjudgmental support, prioritizing Libby’s spirit over appearances.
- Uses humor to loosen trauma’s grip, helping Libby reclaim normalcy.
- Dusty Masselin
- Serves as the story’s ethical bellwether, refusing excuses.
- Delivers the clearest standard in the book: apology isn’t enough; amends are required.
Themes & Symbols
Seeing Beyond Appearances comes into focus the moment Jack, who can’t read faces, can still find Libby in a crowd. His neurological limitation turns into a metaphor: real recognition isn’t about features; it’s about attention and honesty. Libby likewise sees through Jack’s practiced charm to the panic beneath it, forcing both of them to meet each other where they actually are.
Self-Acceptance and Body Image unfolds as a strategy and a wound. Libby’s choice to write the insults herself is both self-protection and self-harm, a way to seize authorship when the world insists on defining her. Her decision to return to school—anchored by “You can’t stop living”—shifts that strategy toward resilience. Meanwhile, Loneliness and Isolation isolates both protagonists: Jack’s prosopagnosia turns crowds into voids, and Libby’s history of public shaming makes solitude feel safer. The joint punishment—“The Conversation Circle”—functions as a symbolic container that forces them out of isolation and into accountability.
Key Quotes
“Because someone was going to write it.”
Libby’s confession reframes cruelty as a preemptive shield. By choosing the words, she controls the narrative—even as it costs her. The line exposes how survival tactics can blur into self-erasure.
“You don’t get to be the villain and the hero.”
Libby refuses Jack’s attempt to redeem himself on his terms. The boundary matters: repair requires listening, not grand gestures that recenter the offender.
“self-defensive shittiness”
Jack names the impulse that drives his worst choices—striking first to avoid being hurt. The phrase is ugly on purpose, forcing him (and us) to confront the harm wrapped in self-protection.
“You need to make it right.”
Dusty distills morality into action. Apology is insufficient; restitution is the point. The line resets Jack’s trajectory from guilt to responsibility.
“You can’t stop living.”
The message on Libby’s shoes becomes her mantra. It turns a humiliating day into a declaration of persistence and reframes school as a stage for resilience, not retreat.
Why This Matters and Section Significance
These chapters pivot the novel from humiliation to reckoning. The cafeteria incident exposes Jack’s worst choices and Libby’s best instincts; the office scene and shared punishment bind them together in a space designed for truth-telling. Libby’s graffiti confession and Dusty’s directive set the stakes: this isn’t a story about who’s right but about how people repair what they break.
The result is the series’ core setup: proximity as catalyst. Counseling and community service give Jack and Libby a structure in which to see, and be seen by, each other—moving the story from appearances to understanding, and from isolation to connection.