Opening
In these chapters, Eden McCrorey chases numbness while her best friend Mara leans into newfound freedom. A birthday piercing, a college house party, and a long winter night push Eden from tentative rebellion into a deliberate, self-erasing routine—until her secret life collides with home.
What Happens
Chapter 26: Skin Deep
The morning after their night at the playground, Eden and Mara lie to Eden’s dad and head to a strip mall parlor called Skin Deep so Mara can get her nose pierced. Eden balks when she learns Cameron—Mara’s longtime crush—works there, and the neighborhood looks sketchy. Still, she goes, determined to be supportive.
Inside, the shop is clean, Cameron is effortlessly charming, and Eden feels shut out. When she questions whether a sixteen-year-old can legally get pierced, Cameron and Mara brush her off, making her feel prudish. Mara grips Eden’s hand as Cameron works. He pierces quickly and cleanly; the tiny stud sparkles. Mara hugs them both, and Eden and Cameron exchange a tentative, real smile, united for a moment by their affection for Mara.
Chapter 27: That Guy, Troy
Back at school, Mara radiates confidence—nose ring flashing, hair dyed cranberry—while Eden aches with envy. In the hallway, Amanda Armstrong shoots her a venomous glare that reminds Eden of her damaged reputation. Waiting for Mara, Eden gets a text from an unknown number: Troy, one of the boys from the playground, asking about a party. She can’t remember giving him her number or talking about any party, a dissociative gap that folds into the theme of Trauma, Silence, and Secrecy.
Mara arrives, grabs Eden’s phone, and RSVPs for both of them—she wants to see Alex. Then she vents about Cameron wasting two years without making a move. “Done waiting,” she declares, and decides to pursue Alex to make Cameron jealous. Eden doubts those stoner boys are relationship material, but Mara’s momentum sweeps her along to the party anyway.
Chapter 28: Not Impressed
The party turns out to be a sprawling college rager, thick with beer and smoke. Troy’s older brother—handsome, superior—mocks them for knowing Troy and Alex, calling them losers. Mara, stung but stubborn, heads for the pool to find Alex. Eden stays, hardens her voice, and plays unimpressed, crafting a new armor that signals the beginnings of Identity and the Loss of Self.
He offers a “tour” and leads her to a locked room on the third floor. As soon as the door clicks shut, he kisses her, and she matches his urgency. The sex is fast and impersonal. After, he zips up and tosses, “Thanks... This was fun.” Eden feels “empty and full, all at the same time.” The numbness reads as power, a way to escape herself—seeding a habit of using sex to simulate Control and Powerlessness.
Chapter 29: That Girl
Three months pass. Eden now uses Troy for party invites and seeks out anonymous hookups to “disconnect.” On a futon with a new guy, she hears, “You’re that girl... People talk about you,” then, “I can’t tell if you’re really pretty... or really ugly.” The casual cruelty slices through her armor and jolts a memory of Josh Miller and his uncomplicated kindness.
Shaken, she dresses fast, finds Mara, and insists they leave. Over pancakes at a 24-hour Denny’s, Mara gently asks if sleeping with strangers is a good idea. Eden bristles, equates it with Mara’s drinking, and waves away the idea that sex is meant to be special. To deflect, she admits she slept with Troy’s brother months ago but lies that there are no other secrets. The friendship sours as Eden’s walls rise.
Chapter 30: Relaxing
Two days before Christmas, Eden’s older brother Caelin McCrorey is due home. Their mother, Vanessa McCrorey, mentions that Caelin’s best friend—and Eden’s rapist—Kevin Armstrong won’t be staying with them. The relief doesn’t quiet Eden’s dread. She texts Troy for weed, lies about last-minute shopping, and illegally drives Mara’s car to the playground.
Troy is sober, softer than she remembers, and admits he has a crush on her. He leans in; she pulls away. They get high in the car. When he tells her she’s pretty, Eden, feeling this time like she’s choosing, kisses him back. It’s gentle and slow. The next moment, she wakes in her own bed. Caelin stands over her, furious. He says she stumbled in and passed out; he carried her upstairs and shielded her from their parents—then orders her to “sleep it off.” Eden’s secret world collides with her family’s doorstep.
Character Development
Eden shifts from drifting through dissociation to actively chasing it, building a hard persona that can survive parties, rumors, and hookups. Her control is an illusion that cracks under tiny pressures—a cruel comment, a kind memory, a brother’s contempt.
- Eden: Trades safety for numbness; reframes sex as power; reveals how thin that power is when shame and memory surface; isolates herself from Mara; finally collides with family scrutiny.
- Mara: Glows with self-definition—car, hair, piercing—yet remains a steady, caring friend who keeps reaching for Eden through the fog.
- Caelin: Protective but judgmental; covers for Eden with their parents while radiating anger, embodying the family’s brittle silence.
- Troy: More than a party contact; when sober, he’s gentle, honest, and complicates Eden’s transactional script.
Themes & Symbols
Eden’s self-invention curdles into self-erasure. Where Mara uses choices—piercing, hair, bravado—to assert identity, Eden adopts a persona that lets her vanish inside it. This is identity built by subtraction: fewer feelings, fewer ties, fewer memories. The “tour” to the locked room becomes a map into that shrinking interior.
Control serves as a mirage. By initiating encounters and going numb, Eden believes she has reclaimed agency over her body. Yet the party hookup’s dismissal, the hallway glare, and Caelin’s final command show how easily that control evaporates. Trauma thrives in what isn’t said: Eden’s gaps in memory, her lies to Mara, the family’s refusal to name what happened. Silence protects her and betrays her at once.
Symbols:
- The Locked Room: A sealed-off chamber for compartmentalized pain—private, high above the chaos, where Eden practices self-erasure out of sight.
- The Playground: A corrupted childhood space that now hosts risk, drugs, and blurred consent; a threshold where innocence gives way to escape.
Key Quotes
“Thanks... This was fun.”
- Reduces Eden to an experience, confirming the impersonality she pretends to control. His flippancy reinforces the transactional script she adopts to avoid feeling rejected.
“You’re that girl... People talk about you.”
- Names the persona Eden has been constructing and warns of its cost: once identity becomes rumor, it’s no longer hers to manage.
“I can’t tell if you’re really pretty... or really ugly.”
- External judgment fractures Eden’s self-image, exposing the hollowness of her armor and triggering a memory of Josh’s uncomplicated kindness.
“Done waiting.”
- Mara’s declaration marks her claiming agency in contrast to Eden’s retreat. It highlights a fork in their paths: expression versus erasure.
“Sleep it off.”
- Caelin’s command compresses anger, protection, and denial into three words. It keeps the family secret intact while making Eden’s shame unmistakable.
Why This Matters and Section Significance
This sequence cements Eden’s primary coping strategy—anonymous sex as self-numbing—and shows how quickly a single choice becomes a pattern. The time jump underlines how repetition deadens meaning; what begins as an act of control hardens into a cage.
The rift with Mara widens even as Mara keeps trying to reach her, setting up future fractures. Eden’s “that girl” reputation leaks from parties into hallways, and finally into her home when Caelin discovers her. The walls between her hidden and public selves start to crumble, positioning the story for confrontation with the truths she has been refusing to name.