The way I am now

In this sequel to The Way I Used to Be (2016), about three years have passed since Eden's brother's best friend raped her. She is finishing high school online and is trying to achieve a sense of normalcy. Then she runs into Josh, a former boyfriend. Even though they separated, they still have feelings for each other, and the novel, told in alternating first-person present chapters, captures the delicate approach they take to rekindle their relationship. Each struggles with their own issues: Eden faces her rapist's hearing and trial while healing herself from her previous self-destructive behavior after the rape, while Josh struggles with his father's fragile sobriety. The love story is appealing, and the side characters are supportive without enabling their friends' personal struggles. Since the first book was published seven years ago, enough time has passed that that backstory can be difficult and distracting to piece together, so potential readers should be steered toward the first book when possible to enhance their understanding of the sequel.

In this follow-up to 2016's The Way I Used To Be, a high school senior comes to understand that surviving rape is only the first part; what comes next is hard, too. Eden is learning how to live after coming forward and publicly naming her rapist following three years of self-loathing and destructive behavior. In counseling, she's working to understand who she is now, while also maintaining relationships with friends who don't know what happened and family members who are dealing with guilt and anger in their own ways. Others' reactions often leave Eden feeling like her honesty was more burdensome than helpful. She awaits the trial and reconnects with Josh, the boy she loved even when she couldn't love herself and the only person outside her family who knew the truth. While Eden and Josh want love to be enough, both come with emotional baggage that must be dealt with before they can truly give themselves to each other. This emotional story about learning to take back control explores the fraught journey back to self for survivors and those who love them most. It is well paced and well executed and effectively shows how the legal system can make victims feel pressured and lonely. Readers need to be familiar with the first volume to fully understand this one. Main characters are cued white. Highlights with painful honesty the process of moving forward following trauma. (author's note) (Fiction. 14-18) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

1. Eden EDEN I'm disappearing again. It starts at the edges, my extremities blurring. Fingers and toes go staticky and numb with no warning at all. I grip the edge of the bathroom sink and try to hold myself up, but my hands won't work. My arms are weak. And now my knees want to buckle too. Next, it's my heart, pumping fast and jagged. I try to take a breath. Lungs are cement, heavy and stiff. I never should have agreed to this. Not yet. Too soon. I swipe my hand across the steamy mirror, and my reflection fogs over too quickly. I choke on a laugh or a sob, I can't tell which, because I really am disappearing. Literally, figuratively, and every way in between. I'm almost gone. Closing my eyes tightly, I try to locate one thought--just one--the thing she said to do when this happens. Count five things you can see. I open my eyes. Toothbrushes in the ceramic holder. One. Okay, it's okay. Two: my phone, there on the counter, lighting up with a series of texts. Three: a glass of water, blistered with condensation. Four: the amber prescription bottle full of pills I'm trying so hard not to need. I look down at my hands, still not right. That's five. Four things you can feel. Water dripping off my hair and down my back, over my shoulders. Smooth tiles slippery under my feet. Starchy towel wrapped around my damp body. The porcelain sink, cool and hard against the palms of my tingling hands. Three sounds . The exhaust fan whirring, the shallow huff and gasp of my breathing getting faster, and a knock on the bathroom door. Two smells . Peaches and cream shampoo. Eucalyptus body wash. One taste . Stinging mint mouthwash with notes of lingering vomit underneath, making me gag all over again. I swallow hard. "Fuck's sake," I hiss, swiping the mirror again. This time with both hands, one over the other, scrubbing at the glass. I refuse to give in to this. Not tonight. I clench my fingers into fists until I can feel my knuckles crack. I inhale, too sharply, and finally manage to get some air into my body. "You're okay," I exhale. "I'm okay," I lie. I'm staring down into the black circle of the drain as my eyes drift back over to the bottle. Fine. I twist the cap in my useless hands and let one chalky tablet tumble into my palm. I swallow it, I swallow it good. And then I down the entire glass of water in one gulp, letting tiny rivulets stream out of the corners of my mouth, down my neck, not even bothering to wipe them away. "Edy?" It's my mom, knocking on the door again. "Everything all right? Mara's here to pick you up." "Yeah, I--" My breath catches on the word. "I'm almost ready." Excerpted from The Way I Am Now by Amber Smith All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.