Tell Me Three Things

“I wish I could say I always agreed with her [...] but now I’m proud of how I was raised, even if it means I’m even more of a stranger in a strange land at this school.”

Jessie’s family was “far from poor” (32) back in Chicago, but her middle-class upbringing makes her feel especially out of place at ultra-wealthy Wood Valley. She remembers her mother valuing “experience over things,” and though this mentality isolates her even further from her peers, she is not ashamed. Despite how much she doubts herself, Jessie does know who she is and what she values, as Mrs. Pollock reminds her in Chapter 33.

“Perfect days are for people with small, realizable dreams. Or maybe for all of us, they just happen in retrospect; they’re only now perfect because they contain something irrevocably and irretrievably lost.”

Jessie remembers a game she would play with Scarlett, in which they would create their “perfect day.” Thinking back, Jessie realizes that while her mother was still alive “they all seem like perfect days” (70) and suggests that she cannot imagine ever having a perfect day again. This is her character’s starting point, and she develops a more positive mindset as the novel progresses.

“I imagine, or I hope, that one day I will be discovered—that I will actually be seen—not as a sidekick, or as a study buddy, or as background furniture, but as someone to like, maybe even to love.”

Jessie identifies an anxiety that many teenagers experience: the fear of not being seen, or understood, as their authentic selves. The theme of invisibility and anxiety of being accepted and liked is prevalent throughout the novel and makes Jessie a relatable protagonist. As her friendship with SN develops, Jessie finally feels “seen” by someone, which is what she values most about their relationship.

“Fine. I’ll admit it. I wanted one night to myself. One night when I did not have to be judged by all of your friends. Do you think I don’t see how they look at me? How you look at me when they’re around?”

Theo and Jessie eavesdrop on their parents’ explosive argument, and Bill angrily expresses to Rachel that he feels judged by her and her “high class” friends. For the first time, Jessie realizes that she is not the only one who is having a challenging time fitting in, and she develops a bit of empathy for her father. 

“Everything passes, Jessie. Remember that. What feels huge today will feel small tomorrow, she once said [...] .”

Jessie remembers her mother reassuring her after her parents fought, but she no longer finds comfort in her words. She is at a point in her life where everything feels “huge”: her mother’s death, her cross-country move, her dad’s fight with Rachel, and finding her place in a new school all feel daunting and insurmountable. Eventually, Jessie starts to see that everything does come to pass, but only with time and healing.

“I might have, for at least a little while, taken off my top-secret grief backpack and left it behind.”

On her way to Gem’s party, with her new friends Dri and Agnes, Jessie finally starts to feel like “a normal teenage girl.” She is momentarily able to suspend her ever-present grief and enjoy a fun night out, an indication that she is starting to heal and move forward.

“[...] I hate how when something like that happens, people just like to pretend it didn’t because it’s uncomfortable and scary and they don’t know what to say. Not knowing the right thing to do is not an excuse for not doing anything.”

Ethan is the first person at Wood Valley to bluntly acknowledge and express sympathy to Jessie for her mom’s death, which she deeply appreciates. Jessie is unaware that this all coming from a place of personal experience, because she does not yet know that Ethan’s brother Xander died. Jessie can connect with Ethan (and SN) on a much deeper level because they understand the weight her grief.

“Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden/Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not/Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither/Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,/Looking into the heart of light, the silence.”

Jessie tells Ethan they need to reschedule their usual Friday “Waste Land” meeting because she is leaving for Chicago, and he responds with these lines of the poem. Ethan later reveals that he was only memorizing the poem to impress Jessie, but the pair genuinely identify with this section. Since losing their loved ones, they find it difficult to reach out and speak to others, and their grief leaves them feeling neither alive nor dead, like “a body without a soul” (105), as Jessie describes in Chapter 13.

“In them, I'm not scared of sex, of intimacy, of anything at all. In them, I don't feel ugly or compare my body to Gem's. I feel beautiful and strong and brave. In the morning, I wake up flushed, sad, when the feeling gets wiped away by the reality of the day.”

The intimate dreams Jessie has about Ethan reveal an alternate, confident version of herself that starkly contrasts the self-consciousness she feels around him in person. The conflicting emotions she feels about sex are prevalent throughout the novel, not just for Jessie, but also for her friends as they figure out how they want to approach sex for the first time.

“That scene with Raskolnikov at his house with his mother and sister. How he’s able to act like everything is normal, even though he’s actually going crazy inside [...] .”

Mrs. Pollack calls on Jessie to answer a question about Crime and Punishment, but she has been daydreaming and gets flustered. Ethan answers the question for her, and though Jessie does not give us any further insight to the class discussion, it is a poignant and relevant thing for Ethan to say: both he and Jessie have pretended that their lives are normal after losing their family members, even though they are constantly combatting the grief that makes them “crazy inside.” 

“No, the truth is I don’t want to be anywhere at all, because wherever I go, I still come with me. I’m stuck in this brain, in this body, in this ugly swamp of humanness.”

Jessie’s reunion with Scarlett turns out to be nothing like she imagined; when she senses that their dynamic has changed, the “home” she was so excited to return to is suddenly the last place she wants to be. Overcome with anxiety and self-consciousness, Jessie convinces herself that she always “[screws] everything up”—feelings that mark the trials of young adulthood, and a low place from which she eventually grows.

“Just so you know, I realize that what happened is not in any way okay, but I think we’re going to have to pretend like it is.”

This is what Scarlett tells Jessie after her mom dies, and Jessie considers it to be “the only thing that made sense at the time, maybe the only thing that has made any sense since.” Jessie knows that her mother’s death will never be okay, no matter how much Jessie moves forward. All the grieving characters—Jessie, Bill, Theo, Rachel, and Ethan—pretend at various points that things are all right, but in their moments of vulnerability they are all struggling together.

“[...] she will never see who I grow up to be—that great mystery of who I am and who I am meant to be—finally asked and answered. I will march forth into the great unknown alone.”

Jessie grapples with the difficult realization that her mother will never be able to witness her life’s milestones, watching her grow into the person she is “meant to be.” Though this feels isolating, by the end of the novel, Jessie becomes aware of just how extensive her support network is, and that she no longer has to face “the great unknown” by herself. 

“I wanted you to see yourself the way I see you: as a fighter. Strong and stealthy. Totally kick-ass. Completely and utterly your mother’s daughter.”

When Jessie leaves Chicago, Scarlett gifts her a new laptop sticker of a ninja. Her note reminds Jessie that she has always possessed more inner strength than she realizes and is especially sentimental given that Scarlett knew Jessie’s mother. It also inspires Jessie to return to LA with newfound courage to face all the daunting confrontations that await her, and to not shy away from her authenticity.

“It’s just that I never put a name to what I recognized of myself in Ethan’s eyes—that look on his face when he stares out the window, the shell shock, the insomnia. Grief.”

When Theo reveals that Xander, the boy at Wood Valley who died of a heroin overdose last year, was Ethan’s older brother, Jessie suddenly understands why Ethan is so withdrawn and exhausted. She had found his mental absence to be familiar and begins to understand that their shared grief is what connects them on a deeper level than with other friends. 

“It was hard to leave and it would have been hard to stay. Not feeling like I belong anywhere has made me crave constant motion; standing still feels risky, like asking to be a target.”

Jessie does not go into specifics with Ethan when telling him about her weekend in Chicago (which he already knows about, as SN), but it prompts her to think about her conflicting feelings. She recognizes that she is in limbo of sorts: Chicago is not the home for her it once was, and LA does not yet feel like home either. Within the final chapters, though, she realizes just how many important relationships she has started to build in LA, and she eventually feels like she is ready to stay.

“You’re the only person who didn’t know me before. Everyone else assumes I’m just like him or wonders why I can’t just go back to being how I used to be. But I’m not him and I’m not the same me either, you know?”

After expressing her sympathy over Xander’s death (which parallels Ethan’s sentiments in Chapter 21), Ethan shares how difficult it has been for him to regain a sense of self. Jessie knows these feelings well, and she assures him, with a reference to Gertrude Stein, that “Ethan is Ethan is Ethan.” Both Ethan and Jessie are who they are, regardless of who they were before they lost their family members and regardless of how others expect them to be now.  

“‘I've been watching you, and you so know who you are already. Most girls your age don’t have that comfort-in-their-own-skin thing, and that’s probably what makes you threatening to Gem,’ she says, and I wonder what the hell she’s talking about. I don’t know anything about anything.”

Jessie’s English teacher, Mrs. Pollack, apologizes for the way she confronted Jessie about Gem’s bullying and suggests that Jessie’s sense of self is why Gem was targeting her. Jessie is shocked to hear this, but Mrs. Pollack is one of several people in Jessie’s life that point out all the strengths and qualities she does not realize she possesses. 

“How we’ve all moved on—forward—and how in some ways, moving back would just be moving backward. It’s not like my mom is there, and I guess memories, as much as they can be held on to, are portable.”

Bill offers Jessie the chance to move back to Chicago, which, for the past two months, she thought would fix everything. After visiting Scarlett, however, she realizes that life in Chicago did not stand still while she was gone and that holding onto the past is not viable for healing. She does not have to be in Chicago to keep the memories of her life there; she can carry them with her into her new life in LA. 

“I did figure it out. Most of it, at least. Maybe Scar is right: I am more kickass than I give myself credit for.”

While making up with her father, Jessie points out that she felt abandoned when they arrived in LA to start this new chapter of their lives. Upon saying this, she realizes that she was able to make new friends, do well at an intimidating new school, and find a job she loves all on her own. In this moment, she finally recognizes the strength and perseverance Scar has always insisted she has.  

“I know that how he feels about her has nothing to do with me. Or my mom, for that matter. I know that love is not finite.”

After weeks of not speaking, Jessie finally makes up with her father. Having made peace with her new life, Jessie has reached an emotional place where she no longer feels like her father replaced her mother with Rachel. She knows that love can exist in many forms and that love does not have to end with a person’s death. 

“Do I know that? I know she wouldn’t be not proud, which is not the same thing as proud. I’m not sure I’m ready to think about her that way yet, to wrap my head around the “would be” part.”

After Jessie makes up with her father, he reminds her that he is proud of her, and he insists that her mom would be, too. Even though Jessie has come a long way in terms of her healing, and has begun moving forward in her life, she acknowledges that there are still steps she has not yet reached, like thinking about her mom in the hypothetical. Despite the validation she receives from her father, Scar, and others close to her, the comfort of her mother’s assurance is still missing.

“This is a house full of pain, of bad juju, as Theo said, but it's also a house of starting over.”

Jessie shares a vulnerable moment with Rachel, who admits how much she is still struggling with her own grief. For two months, Jessie had resented Rachel and her pristine, unwelcoming house, but at this point, she can empathize with Rachel and recognizes that their new family, despite their pain, is ready to move forward together.