The Way I Used to Be

In Chapter 14, Josh tells Eden that he once did a science fair project on the life cycle of a dandelion. Dandelions—and especially the “in-between” ones that Josh describes—become a symbol for stunted growth. As the reader learns much later in Chapter 48, Eden kept the “in-between” dandelion that Josh gave her three years ago, in one of the first conversations they ever had. The dandelion mirrors Eden’s own jilted growth, disrupted by her traumatic rape. The in-between dandelion represents a kind of failure to launch:

‘See, this one […] is sort of in between.’ He holds it close to my face so I can get a better look. ‘The yellow petals are gone, and the white’s starting to come through, but they’re not really light enough to start flying away yet.’ He blows at it, but nothing happens (83).

Like those dandelions, Eden herself feels as though she is trapped in an in-between state:

I feel like I’ve gone off somewhere else, like I’ve just sort of slipped into this other realm. A world that’s a lot like the real world, except slightly slower. This alternate reality where I’m not quite in my body, not quite in my mind, either—it’s this place where all I do is think about one thing and one thing only (44).

Dandelions become symbolic of Josh—as evident when Eden fantasizes about a white knight coming to rescue her who holds a “bouquet of dandelions” (307)—but they also represent a stunted, emotional state.

After the trauma of being raped, Eden learns that simply pretending to be normal is an effective measure to conceal her pain: “It’s simple really. All you have to do is act like you’re normal and okay, and people start treating you that way” (67). There are multiple moments throughout the novel where Eden refers to passing as normal. The reader even sees her remember to “correct” herself when she starts to reflect that things are not okay: “But I remember about acting normal and smiling, so I walk over to him. His friends turn to look at me; it’s like they’re evaluating me—inspecting me for flaws” (72). Eden even coaches herself in intimate moments, when making out with Josh: “Be normal. Be normal, Edy. I tell myself. Be normal, I repeat in my head. Now. I take a breath and pull away from his kiss” (108). When her whole family goes through the motions of acting normal, Eden refers to her family in theatrical terms, as literal “actors” normal:

Later, after I am a no-show at family-dinner theater, where we play the parts of a loving, functional family (sans little sister—no understudy), after Mom and Dad (reading for the roles of doting mother and father) go to bed, Caelin (wholesome, caring big brother) lures me out of my room with my favorite food in the entire world (177).

This motif draws attention to the concept of “normal”—like truth, the reader comes to question alongside Eden what exactly is “normal.”