Amanda Armstrong
Quick Facts
- Role: Younger sister of Kevin Armstrong; former childhood friend of Eden McCrorey
- First appearance: Sophomore year, reappearing at school with a cool, hostile distance
- Key relationships: Kevin (abusive older brother who manipulates her), Eden (estranged friend turned fellow survivor)
Who They Are
Amanda Armstrong is the novel’s sharpest mirror: the girl who aims her fury at Eden and, in doing so, reveals the twisted routes trauma takes to survive. The contrast between her striking beauty and cutting demeanor—“dark, dark eyes burning against her warm, tanned skin, her black hair shining in the morning sunlight”—captures a character built on poise and armor. She embodies the themes of Trauma, Silence, and Secrecy, weaponizing rumor and rejection to keep her own pain hidden, and ultimately becomes a crucial catalyst in Eden’s path toward Healing and Finding One's Voice. Amanda’s arc also exposes how abuse scrambles moral compasses and agency, dramatizing the push-pull of Control and Powerlessness.
Personality & Traits
Amanda’s persona is a fort built from fear—spiked with cruelty, precision, and control—designed to keep others (and the truth) out. Her hostility reads like choice, but it’s defense; her meanness, misdirected pain.
- Hostile and confrontational: From the moment she re-enters Eden’s orbit, she shuts down any familiarity—rejecting the nickname “Mandy” and refusing conversation—staking out power through distance.
- Secretive: Amanda never reveals what’s happening at home, using silence as a shield. Her refusal to confide keeps Kevin’s manipulation intact and her anger unexamined.
- Cruel and manipulative: She escalates to public humiliation—scribbling “EDEN MCCROREY IS A WHORE” on a bathroom wall and twisting Eden’s brief moment with Josh Miller into sordid gossip—projecting her own confusion and shame onto an easier target.
- Brave: In the end, she reports Kevin, choosing truth over terror. That disclosure is an act of self-preservation and a spark that brings Eden’s assault into the open.
Character Journey
Amanda begins as a ghost from childhood turned antagonist—icy, cutting, inexplicably hostile. Her cruelty culminates in a study hall confrontation where she repeats Kevin’s lie: that he and Eden had a consensual relationship. Eden’s visceral, horrified reaction ruptures Amanda’s constructed reality, forcing her to see that Kevin’s “normalization” of abuse is a deliberate manipulation. That recognition triggers a pivot from rage to clarity: Amanda tells the police, breaks the silence choking her household, and finally calls Eden to apologize. The journey traces a path from misdirected hatred to accountability; in claiming her story, Amanda also opens space for Eden to claim hers.
Key Relationships
- Kevin Armstrong: As her older brother and abuser, Kevin shapes Amanda’s worldview through lies that camouflage his crimes. By insisting Eden “wanted it,” he reframes his violence as normal, isolating Amanda and redirecting her anger toward the wrong person. Amanda’s decision to report him is a radical reorientation—from Kevin’s narrative to her own.
- Eden McCrorey: Once childhood friends, they become adversaries after Amanda, primed by Kevin’s deception, sees Eden as the emblem of “normal” sexuality that excuses what’s happening at home. Their final, honest phone call reframes them as parallel survivors, allowing Amanda’s apology and Eden’s response to begin a tentative bridge back to empathy.
Defining Moments
Amanda’s choices trace the contours of her trauma—and her courage.
- The Cold Shoulder: When Eden and Mara pass the Armstrong house, Amanda refuses friendliness and rejects “Mandy.” Why it matters: She asserts control by renaming herself, severing the innocence of childhood and warning Eden away.
- The Bathroom Graffiti: Amanda scrawls “EDEN MCCROREY IS A WHORE” and lies that Eden “practically screwed some guy out by the tennis courts,” twisting a brief interaction with Josh into a weapon. Why it matters: Public shaming externalizes her private turmoil; cruelty becomes a surrogate for the power she lacks at home.
- The Final Confrontation: In study hall, Amanda cites Kevin as her source—“I’m not making it up—he told me!”—and Eden’s horrified reaction detonates the lie. Why it matters: The shock cracks Kevin’s narrative; violence erupts because the truth finally collides with the cover story.
- Reporting the Abuse: Amanda goes to the police. Why it matters: This is her first irrevocable act of self-protection; it also sets off the investigation that brings Eden’s assault into the light.
- The Phone Call: Amanda apologizes, admitting how Kevin used the fabricated relationship to normalize his abuse: she “hated” Eden instead of him. Why it matters: Naming misdirected hatred is the first step toward accountability and the possibility of healing between them.
Essential Quotes
You don’t have to talk to me. . . . Ever. This cutting boundary turns childhood history into a closed door. Amanda wields silence as control, refusing Eden access and signaling that the rules of their relationship have radically changed.
My name is not Mandy. Rejecting the nickname is a rejection of the past and of intimacy. It’s a self-protective rebranding—Amanda polices how she’s addressed so she can police what she must not confess.
"And why is she a totally slutty disgusting whore, again?" She laughs. "Trust me, she just is," Amanda says as they stand back and admire their work. "Besides, she practically screwed some guy out by the tennis courts after school yesterday!" she lies. Here, Amanda scripts a narrative of Eden as “deserving” of contempt, converting rumor into social currency. The lie deflects attention from her own abuse; humiliation becomes a mask that keeps her secret sealed.
I’m not making it up—he told me! This line reveals the engine of her cruelty: belief in Kevin’s version of events. When Eden’s reaction exposes the impossibility of that story, Amanda’s certainty crumbles, creating the opening for truth.
I had to tell. I just had to. . . . He tried to make me believe that it was okay. Normal. That you—if you did it, wanted to, I mean—then, you know, what could be wrong with that? . . . I hated you. So much. As much as I should’ve hated him—I hated you instead. I don’t know why. It’s all fucked up, isn’t it? Amanda names the mechanics of manipulation—normalization, comparison, misdirected rage—and then chooses disclosure. This confession is both an indictment of Kevin’s grooming and a reckoning with her own complicity in hurting Eden, marking the start of genuine repair.
