Psychological trauma

Psychological trauma is an ongoing condition in the novel, carried in the body as much as in memory. For Shelby Anderson Barnum, it appears in panic, sensitivity to touch, nightmares, and the return of fear when reminders of past harm surface. For Jungkook Jeon, it is bound to childhood violence, anger, and self-destructive impulses. Their stories connect trauma with the difficulty of feeling safe, while showing that support can help without erasing what happened or making recovery a straight line.

Forms of Trauma and Their Returns

Shelby’s distress is first legible through abrupt physical changes rather than explanation. During an episode in class, pain seems to fill her body; her heart pounds, her chest tightens, and her breathing accelerates. She leaves without speaking. When Cassiopée Smith finds her in isolation, Shelby has covered her ears and cannot calm herself. Cassiopée’s hands on her shoulders make her startle and cry out in pain. Even after she stops screaming, she remains curled in on herself and clearly resists being touched. The scene establishes an important pattern: another person’s attempt to help may initially feel like a threat when Shelby is overwhelmed.

A later episode in a boxing gym’s changing room similarly leaves Shelby trembling and crying beneath running water. Jungkook turns the water off, crouches in front of her, and stays beside her until she calms. He does not know what to do, so his response is simply to remain present. The difference between this encounter and Cassiopée’s is not that Shelby has ceased to be afraid of contact; rather, Jungkook waits with her through the distress instead of demanding an explanation or an immediate response.

The novel also shows how a trigger can emerge through an apparently ordinary encounter. When Shelby experiences a painful image of water and feels her throat tighten, she collapses and covers her ears. Madison Jefferson recognizes that she is having a panic attack, but Shelby pushes her away and pleads not to be touched or hurt. Madison then leaves to find Jungkook. He runs to Shelby, draws her against him, and strokes her back; recognizing his familiar spring scent, Shelby puts her arms around his neck and presses her face to his shoulder. Her breathing returns to normal after several minutes. The scene makes safety specific: Shelby’s ability to accept comfort depends on recognizing and choosing a trusted person, not on touch being universally reassuring.

Jungkook’s Childhood and the Inheritance of Violence

Jungkook’s trauma is traced to violence within his family. In a flashback set in a house in Gangnam, Seoul, eight-year-old Jungkook is held back by his older brother, Ye-jun, who is trying to stop him from intervening in a frightening argument downstairs. Jungkook breaks free when he hears the shouting grow louder and insists that their father leave their mother alone. His attempt to protect her turns the violence toward him: his father smashes a glass against the wall, a shard strikes Jungkook’s face, and his father grabs his shirt and slaps him repeatedly. Fear and rage become entangled in the child’s response.

Sunmi Eun later remembers Jungkook as a quiet, discreet boy who once came to her with a badly injured face. He said he had fought at school and that Namjoon Kim had helped him; she believed the explanation until Jungkook ran away from home at sixteen and sought refuge with her. His father did not try to find him. Sunmi welcomed him without hesitation, and Jungkook remained grateful for her care. Her account connects the violence of his childhood to the danger that followed him into adolescence: she and Namjoon worried about his conduct outside her home, including his exposure to things a sixteen-year-old should not have encountered.

The past also returns as a struggle over how Jungkook understands his own behavior. After he relapses into cocaine use, he acknowledges to Shelby that their kisses had unsettled him and that he had hoped learning to love together might quiet the demons occupying his thoughts since childhood. News about Ares Garden intensified the pull of his old vice; returning to the ring felt good in the moment, but seeing Shelby’s tear-stained face made him regret it. His account does not excuse the harm he caused. It shows how unresolved distress, substance use, and his attempts at intimacy can collide, while leaving him responsible for his choices.

Triggers, Memory, and the Kayla Videos

The videos associated with Kayla Brown become a focus of Shelby’s distress after Jungkook tells her their history. He explains that, when they were former sexual partners, they sometimes filmed themselves during sex, a choice he now regrets. Shelby fears that Kayla could distribute the recordings without consent. The threat extends the harm beyond the original relationship: a private record becomes a possible instrument of renewed humiliation and loss of control.

That fear enters Shelby’s sleep. In an early-morning nightmare, she imagines Jungkook and Kayla having sex while she is restrained in a chair and forced to watch. She wakes sweating and crying, panicked and unable to act within the dream. Jungkook draws her close and rubs her back until they have spent several minutes holding one another. Later, Shelby returns to the subject directly, asking about the videos because she cannot stop thinking about them. Jungkook chooses to tell her the truth rather than conceal the history, recognizing that the past must be spoken about if he is to leave it behind. The scene presents disclosure as part of trust, but not as a quick cure: Shelby’s fear has already entered her dreams and remains present after the explanation.

Support, Choice, and Uneven Recovery

Support in these episodes takes several forms, and the most effective responses respect Shelby’s limits. Cassiopée follows her after she leaves class and continues searching when she loses sight of her. Madison withdraws when she realizes Shelby believes she may be in danger, then seeks Jungkook rather than insisting that Shelby accept comfort from her. Jungkook, in turn, offers quiet presence in the changing room and more active, familiar contact when Shelby reaches for him during the later panic attack. The contrast between unwanted touch and welcomed closeness is central to how the novel depicts care: a gesture’s meaning depends on Shelby’s experience and response.

The relationship does not replace professional help. When Jungkook’s mother thanks him for making Shelby happier, she observes that Shelby seems more open to other people and less cold than before. Jungkook resists taking credit, pointing instead to Shelby’s therapist and the help she receives in moving forward. The novel therefore presents companionship as meaningful but not sufficient on its own. Improvement is visible in changes in Shelby’s openness, yet her panic and nightmares show that earlier harm can still return.

The Past in the Present

Shelby’s distress also resurfaces after she sees Robert Jefferson in Ellensburg. Some time later, unable to sleep, she tells Jungkook that the sight of him continues to haunt her. Jungkook responds with anger and says he will make Jefferson pay for what he did to her. His reaction expresses the protective impulse that runs through their relationship, but it also recalls the danger of allowing rage to become the answer to injury.

At Jefferson’s trial, Shelby is anxious enough to fidget with her rings. Jungkook gently takes her right hand to stop her from hurting her fingers and kisses her forehead; he promises to stay with her. Dakota watches with admiration for Shelby’s ability to move forward despite the trauma Jefferson left behind. The courtroom scene does not suggest that testimony makes the harm disappear. Instead, Shelby’s presence there places her experience in public view, in contrast with the concealment and denial surrounding Jefferson. Across the novel, trauma returns in the body and in remembered images, but it is also met by acts of listening, chosen closeness, disclosure, therapy, and testimony. These forms of support make change possible without pretending the past has been undone.