Shelby Anderson’s anxiety attacks

Shelby Anderson’s anxiety attacks make trauma visible as an immediate bodily crisis: her breathing accelerates, her chest tightens, and familiar places or contact can become frightening. The episodes recur in classrooms, isolated corners, and a restaurant restroom, disrupting daily life and exposing how far Shelby’s distress reaches beyond what she is ready to explain. They also shape the novel’s account of support: care matters, but so does respecting her fear of being touched and allowing her to set the pace.

Early Signs and the Difficulty of Speaking

Shelby’s difficulty opening up is apparent from her first conversation with a psychologist in Los Angeles. She has only a vague understanding of the referral and says she has been told the psychologist is good and has passed along her file. The clinician recognizes that Shelby has struggled to integrate and open herself to people after an unspecified event, and invites her to talk about it. Shelby declines for the moment. Rather than pressing her, the psychologist says she will give Shelby time and assures her that what is said in the room will remain there. The exchange establishes both the barrier—Shelby cannot yet discuss what happened—and an important condition for care: she must be allowed some control over when and how she speaks.

At another point, Shelby tells a friend that she previously saw a psychologist in Los Angeles and is now receiving follow-up from that clinician’s colleague, whom she describes as kind. She then describes consequences of the event in her life, including self-harm, an eating disorder, and cannabis use. These are distinct struggles, not synonyms for an anxiety attack, but their disclosure places the attacks within a broader pattern of distress. Her friend listens with visible fear, anger, and sadness, then gently takes Shelby’s hands and strokes them. The scene presents disclosure as difficult but possible, and support as something conveyed through attentive presence as well as conversation.

Panic, Isolation, and the Need for Distance

In an art classroom, a sudden wave of pain and panic overwhelms Shelby. Her heart races and feels constricted; tears rise, and her breathing quickens. She gets up without speaking and rushes out, alarming the teacher and other students. Cassiopée follows, but loses sight of her while searching. Shelby has found a place away from the others and covers her pierced ears with her hands, trying unsuccessfully to calm her breathing. Panic and anxiety seem to press down on her even as sunlight surrounds her. The contrast between the bright surroundings and her experience of darkness makes clear that external calm cannot simply cancel an internal crisis.

When Cassiopée finally reaches her, she puts her hands on Shelby’s shoulders. Shelby startles and cries out in pain, immediately pulling away. Cassiopée stays calm and tries to approach, but Shelby remains hunched over and plainly refuses to be touched. The encounter shows that a gesture intended as comfort can intensify fear when Shelby is overwhelmed. Cassiopée’s continued calm matters, but the scene also makes Shelby’s boundary unmistakable: support cannot assume that physical contact is welcome.

A separate episode unfolds in the showers at the underground boxing venue. Jungkook returns to the locker room after Chen has left and notices water already running, unusual because the other fighters generally shower later. He finds Shelby trembling and crying, turns off the water, and crouches in front of her. Unsure what to do, he does not demand an explanation or try to force her to move; he stays beside her and waits for her to calm down. Once she has settled, she leans against the cold tile and looks at him, wondering why he has stayed with her yet again. The scene offers no quick cure: its immediate act of care is simply remaining present without requiring Shelby to explain herself.

A Memory Returns in the Present

The clearest account of a specific trigger comes when Shelby encounters Madison Jefferson in a restaurant restroom. The unexpected meeting brings an unsettling sensation in her stomach, followed by images associated with pain and water. Her throat tightens as if she cannot get air, and she collapses. She covers her ears, cries, and shuts her eyes; when Madison crouches to help, Shelby pushes her away. In a weak voice, she asks Madison not to touch her and pleads not to be hurt. Madison recognizes that Shelby is having an anxiety attack and believes she may be perceived as a threat. Instead of continuing to approach, she leaves the restroom to find Jungkook.

Jungkook rushes to Shelby and draws her against him. Recognizing what the narrative calls his spring scent, Shelby puts her arms around his neck and buries her face against his left shoulder. He strokes her back and speaks softly until, after several minutes, her breathing returns to normal and the distressing sensations recede. When he asks what happened, Shelby explains that she had been reliving high school with Madison: Madison had been pushing her head into a toilet, and Shelby had been unable to breathe. The present encounter has brought that remembered assault into the restroom as if it were happening again. Shelby’s account identifies the memory behind the attack; Jungkook’s response helps her return to the present, but does not erase what the memory contains.

Support Without a Simple Cure

The episodes establish a recurring tension between Shelby’s need for help and her fear of contact. In the classroom, an unexpected touch makes her cry out; at the restaurant, she explicitly pleads not to be touched; in the boxing locker room, Jungkook waits at her side rather than imposing a remedy. The distinctions between those scenes matter. Care is not presented as a single gesture that will always work, but as attention to Shelby’s condition and boundaries in the particular moment.

Trust also develops through acts that are not identical to managing a panic attack. After Shelby discloses her rape to Jungkook, he gives her tissues, sits facing her, and gently takes her hands. He tells her that he believes her. His words bring visible relief: she cries, smiles with hope, and thanks him. This moment connects being heard and believed with the possibility of feeling safer with another person, without suggesting that belief alone ends her distress.

The book’s ending frames recovery as gradual and individual rather than as the disappearance of every symptom. Shelby and Jungkook are described as having moved forward, separately and together, while leaving their demons behind; the language stresses that the ordeal was difficult but not impossible. For Shelby’s anxiety, that conclusion offers direction rather than a clinical declaration of cure. The attacks have shown the past intruding on her breath, her body, and her relationships. The ending places that recurrence alongside continued movement, with support and personal pace both part of the work of living beyond it.