Daydream by Hannah Grace Summary, Characters and Themes

Daydream by Hannah Grace is a warm, character-driven romance about two people learning to rebuild themselves while finding unexpected love. Set in the familiar world of Maple Hills, it follows Halle Jacobs, a self-effacing writer struggling to put herself first, and Henry Turner, a disciplined hockey captain burdened by expectations.

When their paths cross through a book club and a series of coincidences, an unlikely friendship grows into a tender relationship that challenges both to confront their insecurities. With humor, vulnerability, and emotional honesty, Grace explores love not as rescue, but as partnership—where healing, ambition, and affection can coexist.

Summary

Halle Jacobs begins her story in her grandmother’s cozy Los Angeles kitchen, ending her year-long relationship with her childhood friend, Will Ellington. Though their breakup is civil, it forces her to confront an uncomfortable truth—she’s spent most of her life trying to please others.

Will accuses her of never being fully in love with him, and deep down, she realizes he’s right. Their relationship had become another example of her habit of bending herself to fit others’ needs.

Determined to change, Halle decides to take control of her life and pursue her own dreams.

Meanwhile, Henry Turner, captain of the Maple Hills Titans hockey team, is struggling under the pressure of leadership. When his coach warns that poor grades might cost him his captaincy, Henry is forced to face his academic insecurities.

Despite his confidence on the ice, he finds classroom learning—especially reading-intensive subjects—nearly impossible to manage. Encouraged by his friend Aurora, he visits a local bookstore to find resources on leadership, unaware that his visit will lead to an unexpected connection.

At the bookstore, Halle is hosting the first meeting of her new romance-themed book club. Nervous but excited, she meets Henry when he walks in looking for Aurora.

Mistaking him for a new member, she welcomes him warmly. Their conversation is filled with teasing banter—Halle’s shy humor meeting Henry’s blunt charm.

They quickly learn that her ex, Will, plays for a rival team, and Henry confidently declares he’s the better player, even inviting her to watch him play. Though their encounter is brief, it leaves a lasting impression on both.

Encouraged by her new friend Inayah, who owns the bookstore, Halle enters a writing competition that could launch her career. She also takes a job at The Huntington Hotel, where she befriends the outgoing Cami Walker.

Halle starts attending parties and trying new things, slowly breaking out of her comfort zone. At one of these parties, she sees Henry again.

Despite the chaos around them, their chemistry is immediate and undeniable. Henry’s protectiveness surfaces when he rescues her from an uncomfortable situation with another guy.

What begins as light teasing turns into an evening of laughter and easy connection.

The next morning, Halle wakes in Henry’s bed—fully clothed and safe. He had simply let her sleep after drinking too much.

The tenderness of his care surprises her. Over the following days, they spend time together, studying and talking about their struggles.

Halle helps Henry with his essays, introducing him to color-coded notes and focus techniques. He opens up about his difficulties with concentration, while she shares her experiences with her sister Gigi’s ADHD.

Through these quiet moments, trust begins to grow between them.

Henry surprises Halle at her next book club meeting with daisies—a simple thank-you for helping him. It’s the first time anyone has ever given her flowers, and the gesture deepens her affection for him.

They start meeting more often, studying, baking, and spending time in her late grandmother’s house. Their friendship becomes a safe space where both can be themselves—Halle’s gentleness balancing Henry’s intensity.

However, complications arise when Henry’s coach warns him about distractions, implying that Halle might be one. The comment unsettles him, but instead of distancing himself, he doubles down on his connection with her.

When Halle confides her creative frustration and emotional fatigue, Henry proposes a playful solution: he’ll take her on “dates” to give her experiences that can inspire her writing. They create a lighthearted “rule book” for their arrangement—rules about honesty, boundaries, and not falling in love.

But as they spend time together, it becomes clear that neither can keep that last rule.

Their relationship evolves naturally through laughter, late-night conversations, and growing physical affection. Henry’s patience and care help Halle feel comfortable exploring intimacy on her own terms.

Their connection deepens when he defends her during an incident involving Will, who spreads crude rumors. Henry’s reaction—anger mixed with protectiveness—shows how much she means to him, even as it jeopardizes his captaincy.

When his coach demands an explanation, Henry refuses to betray Halle’s privacy, leading to his suspension. Overwhelmed, he admits that losing his leadership role feels like a relief.

He needs time to understand who he is without the weight of constant responsibility, and he asks Halle for space. Though heartbroken, she agrees, trusting that he’ll return when ready.

In his absence, Halle leans on her new circle of friends—Aurora, Cami, Poppy, and Emilia—who rally around her. They encourage her to focus on her writing competition, helping her finish and submit her manuscript.

Meanwhile, Henry isolates himself at his parents’ home until his friend Nate intervenes, convincing him to return and face things. Henry finally admits to his coach that leadership isn’t for him and that he’s been struggling with anxiety.

The conversation becomes a turning point, allowing him to rebuild on his own terms.

As Halle prepares to leave for a family trip, she’s surprised to find Henry waiting on her porch. He thanks her for giving him space and hands her a sealed package, asking her not to open it until she receives an email.

On the way to the airport, she gets his message: an audio file of her novel, narrated by Henry himself, complete with his playful commentary and heartfelt admiration. Inside the package is a hand-bound copy of her story, illustrated with his sketches and a note calling it his favorite love story.

Overwhelmed, Halle turns around and finds Henry again. They finally confess their love and decide to turn their “rule book” into something real—a relationship built on honesty, care, and choice.

Halle stands up to her mother, cancels the family trip with the Ellingtons, and chooses her own happiness for once. Months later, she wins runner-up in the writing contest, and with her family’s support, attends a prestigious writing program in New York.

Henry joins her, enrolling in art classes nearby. Surrounded by friends and new beginnings, Halle realizes that for the first time, she isn’t living for anyone else—she’s living her own story, and Henry is simply the person who believed she could.

Characters

Halle Jacobs

Halle is the emotional center of Daydream. At the start, she’s coming to terms with how thoroughly she has learned to shape herself around other people’s needs—first as a “good” daughter and sister, then as Will’s easy, accommodating girlfriend, and even as the reliable friend who keeps everything running.

What looks like quietness is really exhaustion: she has spent years avoiding conflict, softening her preferences, and saying yes to keep the peace, until she can no longer tell the difference between love and obligation. Her breakup isn’t just the end of a relationship; it’s the moment she realizes she has been living like a passenger in her own life.

As the story unfolds, Halle’s growth is practical and hard-won: she experiments with friendships, parties, dating, and ambition not as a makeover montage, but as evidence that she is allowed to want things. Her writing competition becomes more than a goal—it’s a declaration that her inner life matters.

Halle’s intimacy arc is equally specific: she isn’t “prudish” or “shy” for plot reasons, she’s anxious because her past taught her that desire comes with pressure, comparison, and performance. With Henry, she learns that tenderness can be patient and that being seen doesn’t have to mean being evaluated.

By the end, her biggest victory isn’t romance—it’s boundaries: she tells the truth, stops lying to keep others comfortable, chooses her own plans, and builds a life where caretaking is shared instead of silently carried.

Henry Turner

Henry is a classic “competent on the outside, overwhelmed on the inside” character, but Daydream gives that tension real texture through his academic struggles, overstimulation, and leadership burnout. As captain, he’s expected to be calm, decisive, and invulnerable; as a student, he’s expected to perform in courses that don’t match how his attention works.

His difficulty focusing—especially in reading-heavy, history-based art studies—doesn’t just frustrate him; it feeds the fear that something is wrong with him, and that fear makes him isolate, which makes the problem worse. Henry’s love language is structure and care: he shows up early, remembers details, brings flowers, bakes cookies, and quietly solves problems without making Halle feel indebted.

He is also blunt to the point of accidental offense, but the bluntness reads as honesty rather than cruelty—he doesn’t manipulate, he clarifies. Importantly, Henry’s arc is not about being “fixed” into the perfect captain; it’s about admitting what leadership costs him and giving himself permission to step away.

His shutdown at his parents’ house, his relief at the idea of losing captaincy, and his eventual confession that he hates the role all underline that his healing is tied to self-knowledge, not grit. With Halle, Henry becomes both steadier and softer: he learns to communicate instead of disappearing, and he uses his creativity—sketches, painting, and the audiobook gesture—to love her in a way that honors her dreams rather than competing with them.

Will Ellington

Will functions as both a former love interest and a symbol of the social gravity Halle is trying to escape in Daydream. On the surface, he’s the confident, popular hockey player whose life has always been louder than Halle’s.

Underneath, he’s insecure about how much of Halle he can’t control: her reluctance to have sex, her lack of enthusiasm for his world, her quiet independence even when she’s people-pleasing. During the breakup, he frames her as dishonest—accusing her of never being in love and of letting things drag on—but there’s an irony in that accusation: Will wants a version of Halle who is simpler, more performative, more compliant, and he interprets her inner complexity as refusal.

His later sexual comments about Halle’s body show his ugliest instinct—using intimacy as social currency and humiliation as power—turning him from “not the right boyfriend” into an active threat to her dignity. Even when he isn’t on-page, Will’s presence lingers through Halle’s family pressure and Henry’s conflict with his coach, making him the antagonist who exposes what the protagonists still need to learn: Halle must stop shrinking to avoid fallout, and Henry must stop protecting her by hiding truth that ultimately harms them both.

Aurora

Aurora is a connective force in Daydream—the kind of friend who builds community by sheer insistence. She is energetic, socially confident, and protective, pushing Henry out of isolation and pulling Halle into a wider circle without demanding that Halle become someone else.

Aurora’s book club isn’t just a hobby; it’s a vehicle for belonging, especially for people like Halle who have lost a social identity after a breakup. She also functions as a boundary-setter on Halle’s behalf: at the sleepover party, she actively polices teasing and signals that Halle’s comfort is non-negotiable.

Aurora’s warmth has leadership of its own, and it contrasts Henry’s strained “official” leadership—she leads by care, not by obligation. Even when she’s comedic or dramatic, her role is emotionally serious: she helps create the conditions where Halle can practice being chosen and defended, not just tolerated.

Russ

Russ is the grounded, teasing friend who offers Henry a safe sounding board in Daydream. He’s social, comfortable in the shared-house chaos, and often the bridge between the team’s rowdy energy and Henry’s need for quiet.

While he jokes and goes along with the group dynamic, Russ also shows emotional intelligence when it matters—reassuring Henry that Halle’s help is mutual and that Henry isn’t “taking advantage” simply by accepting care. In a story where many people push Henry to perform (as captain, student, friend), Russ stands out because he doesn’t demand a persona; he listens, nudges, and stays present.

Anastasia

Anastasia is Henry’s closest friend and one of the most important stabilizers in Daydream. She is organized, determined, and fiercely loyal, pushing Henry to study and stay accountable even when he’s prickly.

What makes her compelling is that her competence isn’t framed as control—it’s care expressed through action. When Henry disappears to his parents’ house, Anastasia doesn’t dramatize it; she recognizes the pattern as a coping mechanism and responds with practical concern, asking Halle for a simple check-in rather than escalating panic.

She respects Henry’s need for space while still refusing to treat his withdrawal as acceptable long-term. In many ways, Anastasia models the kind of friendship Halle is learning to build: honest, direct, and not dependent on someone constantly making themselves smaller.

Cami Walker

Cami is Halle’s doorway back into living in Daydream. She’s cheerful, bold, and socially fearless, and she treats Halle’s “newness” to parties and fun as something exciting rather than embarrassing.

Cami doesn’t rescue Halle with pity; she recruits her with confidence, offering outfits, friends, and plans as if Halle obviously belongs. At the same time, Cami has sharp instincts—she clocks Mason’s reputation and protects Halle in a way Halle isn’t used to receiving.

Her friendship also helps Halle rewrite what female companionship can look like: not competitive, not transactional, but actively supportive. By the end, Cami’s decision to quit the hotel job alongside Halle reinforces the theme that choosing yourself is contagious when you do it together.

Inayah

Inayah, the bookstore owner, represents permission and possibility in Daydream. She sees Halle not just as someone attending book club but as someone with creative ambition worth nurturing.

By offering flyers and telling Halle about the Calliope Publishing competition, Inayah becomes the gentle catalyst for Halle’s writing arc. Her role is brief but meaningful: she is one of the first adults in Halle’s life who encourages her dream without attaching it to family optics, relationship status, or usefulness.

Inayah’s presence also anchors the bookstore as a sanctuary—an environment where Halle’s identity is based on what she loves, not who she serves.

Gigi

Gigi, Halle’s fifteen-year-old stepsister, brings out Halle’s caretaker reflex while also challenging it in Daydream. She’s witty, blunt, and affectionate, teasing Halle about clothes and social life with the fearless honesty of a younger sibling.

Their dynamic shows how Halle often defaults to helper mode—homework essays, advice, reassurance—but Gigi also pushes Halle toward confidence, nudging her to go out, dress up, and try things she normally avoids. Gigi’s mentions of ADHD strategies also become a bridge to Henry, indirectly helping Halle recognize that support tools aren’t “cheating” or weakness—they’re compassion made concrete.

Grayson

Grayson functions as a family messenger in Daydream, often calling Halle with warnings about their mother’s feelings and expectations. He reflects the family system Halle is trying to step out of: news travels through guilt, responsibility is redistributed onto the most dependable person, and “keeping the peace” becomes a shared project.

He may care about Halle, but his approach still reinforces the idea that Halle’s choices are problems to manage rather than boundaries to respect. His role highlights how difficult it is for Halle to change without the family trying to pull her back into her old job as emotional glue.

Halle’s Mother

Halle’s mother is not a villain, but she embodies the generational pattern that traps Halle in Daydream. She romanticizes endurance, reframes breakups as “rough patches,” and uses disappointment and guilt as tools to steer Halle back toward what looks stable—especially Will and the Ellington-family orbit.

Her insistence that Halle is selfish for missing holidays reveals a worldview where a daughter’s autonomy is always secondary to family performance. Still, her eventual apology at the rink matters because it suggests she can learn, even if slowly, that love isn’t control.

She represents the hard truth that boundaries often begin as conflict, and that reconciliation is only real when it includes changed behavior, not just emotional speeches.

Maisie

Maisie appears mostly through family updates in Daydream, but she serves an important function as one of the younger siblings Halle feels responsible for. The casual mentions—like a science project—underline how Halle’s family keeps her tethered through everyday needs, making it harder for Halle to justify choosing herself.

Maisie’s role is less about personality on-page and more about the weight Halle carries: she doesn’t want to abandon the kids, even when the adults’ expectations are unfair.

Ava

Ava, connected through Cami and party logistics in Daydream, symbolizes access to a different version of femininity and confidence—clothes, presentation, and social ease. She’s part of the environment that helps Halle experiment without being judged.

Even as a minor presence, Ava contributes to the sense that Halle is building a “chosen family” network where resources are shared casually—outfits, advice, laughter—rather than earned through self-erasure.

Mason Wright

Mason is the “bad idea” that tests Halle’s vulnerability and Henry’s protective instinct in Daydream. He’s charming enough to approach, but his reputation and behavior suggest he’s unsafe, especially when Halle is drunk and emotionally raw.

The significance of Mason isn’t romance; it’s contrast. He represents the kind of attention Halle could easily mistake for validation—quick, shallow, and risky—while Henry’s intervention shows a different kind of care: protective without possessive, firm without humiliating her.

Mason’s presence also helps Halle see that being desired isn’t the same thing as being respected.

Coach Faulkner

Coach Faulkner is pressure personified in Daydream. He is results-driven, authoritative, and quick to use threats—grades, captaincy, playing time—to force compliance.

Yet he isn’t purely cruel; he’s more like an institution in human form, prioritizing performance and accountability over emotional nuance. His confrontation with Henry exposes Henry’s breaking point: the coach expects a leader who absorbs stress and stays functional, while Henry’s reality includes shutdown and overwhelm.

Faulkner’s eventual agreement to a plan and to changing captains shows that even rigid authority can adapt when someone finally tells the truth, but the cost of getting there is high. He’s also a mirror for Henry: both are trapped in roles defined by responsibility, and both need to admit what the system is doing to the person inside it.

Jaiden

Jaiden appears as a friend Henry reaches out to when he’s uncertain in Daydream, and that alone is revealing: Henry doesn’t often ask for emotional guidance, so when he does, it signals genuine vulnerability. Jaiden’s advice is simple—communicate, don’t assume, don’t hide in the “just friends” ambiguity—and it supports one of the story’s core ideas: clarity is kinder than guessing.

Even in a small role, Jaiden is part of the social safety net that helps Henry stay connected when his instinct is to retreat.

Pete

Pete, Halle’s manager at The Huntington Hotel, represents competent support in a workplace that otherwise drains Halle. By helping with the setup and enabling her to finish early, he shows what healthy leadership looks like—resourceful, collaborative, not dependent on one person overfunctioning.

Pete’s presence highlights why Halle eventually quits: she isn’t leaving because she can’t handle work, she’s leaving because she’s done being in environments that normalize constant stress and limitless giving.

Bobby

Bobby is part of the shared-house team circle, contributing to the loud, teasing camaraderie that can either comfort or overwhelm Henry depending on the moment. As a minor character, Bobby mainly reinforces the social ecosystem around Henry—friends who care, friends who joke, friends who assume closeness equals constant access.

His role matters most in how it contrasts with Henry’s need for quiet and control over his space.

Kris

Kris, like Bobby, is one of the friends/teammates in the shared-house orbit. He helps establish the background hum of group life: playful roasting, casual chaos, and the sense that Henry is surrounded even when he feels alone.

Kris’s presence supports the theme that community can exist without automatically translating into emotional understanding.

Mattie

Mattie adds to the group dynamic and helps sketch the environment Henry lives in—busy, social, and occasionally intrusive. Characters like Mattie are important because they show how easy it is for Henry’s overwhelm to be misread; in a house full of noise and banter, quiet suffering can look like moodiness rather than distress.

Robbie

Robbie (also referenced alongside the group as someone Halle pulls in to cheer Henry up) illustrates a key friction: what helps one person can overstimulate another. Robbie’s involvement is well-intended—more voices, more support, more energy—but it becomes part of why Henry retreats upstairs.

The takeaway isn’t that Robbie is wrong; it’s that Henry’s needs are specific, and learning those needs is part of what love and friendship require.

Emilia

Emilia is part of the friend “ambush” squad that shows up for Halle when Henry disappears. Her role is less individualized on-page, but collectively, she represents the shift in Halle’s life from isolated responsibility to shared care.

Emilia’s presence matters because it proves Halle is no longer alone with her fear; she has people who will come to her house, feed her, and help her finish her book without making her beg for it.

Poppy

Poppy, also part of Halle’s support group, contributes to the emotional scaffolding that holds Halle up when her romantic life becomes uncertain. The group’s blunt dismissal of Will and their practical help with editing and morale show a new kind of female friendship for Halle—one that doesn’t center men’s opinions.

Poppy’s function is to normalize the idea that Halle’s dream is worth effort and teamwork.

Nate Hawkins

Nate is the intervention Henry needs in Daydream when isolation turns from coping mechanism into collapse. He approaches Henry with steady reassurance rather than judgment, offering companionship while Henry does the unglamorous work of returning to life—catching up, facing the coach, admitting the truth about captaincy.

Nate’s strength is that he doesn’t romanticize Henry’s disappearance or shame him for it; he treats it as a problem to solve with support. By accompanying Henry to Faulkner’s office, Nate acts as both accountability and emotional backup, showing Henry that asking for help doesn’t diminish him—it protects him.

Themes

Self-Discovery and Personal Growth

Halle Jacobs’s journey in Daydream centers on reclaiming her sense of identity after years of molding herself to meet others’ expectations. Her relationship with Will Ellington exposes a pattern of emotional self-erasure; she constantly sacrifices her comfort and desires to maintain harmony, even when doing so stifles her individuality.

The breakup becomes a quiet awakening, not marked by heartbreak but by a weary recognition of how little space she has allowed herself to occupy in her own life. Halle’s decision to prioritize her happiness is both subtle and revolutionary—she begins taking small but meaningful actions, from starting a book club to entering a writing competition.

Through her growing friendship and eventual romance with Henry Turner, she experiences the liberating potential of mutual respect and emotional safety. Henry never asks her to shrink; instead, he values her curiosity and creativity, reinforcing her journey toward self-assurance.

Her evolution is not sudden but gradual—marked by moments of self-doubt, courage, and reflection. By the novel’s end, Halle learns that personal growth often means saying no, embracing imperfection, and choosing fulfillment over obligation.

Her story articulates how self-discovery is less about finding a new identity than about reclaiming one’s right to live authentically, even in the presence of love.

Emotional Vulnerability and Trust

Henry’s narrative complements Halle’s through his quiet struggle with emotional openness and internalized pressure. As captain of the Maple Hills Titans, he carries the weight of leadership yet often feels misunderstood and isolated.

His difficulty focusing in class and his battles with anxiety hint at deeper insecurities masked by control and discipline. Meeting Halle disrupts his rigid structure, forcing him to confront emotions he usually avoids.

Unlike others who demand performance, Halle offers understanding without judgment—she listens, notices, and responds with empathy. Their connection thrives not on grand romantic gestures but on small acts of care: late-night conversations, shared silences, and mutual support during moments of overwhelm.

Henry’s willingness to show her his vulnerabilities—his self-doubt, exhaustion, and need for space—represents a profound transformation. The novel underscores that love built on trust does not eliminate fear but allows room for it.

Vulnerability becomes the language through which both characters learn intimacy; they unlearn the instinct to protect themselves through emotional distance and instead build a relationship grounded in honesty and patience.

The Weight of Expectations

Expectations form a subtle yet persistent pressure across Daydream, shaping the behavior of nearly every character. Halle is burdened by her mother’s emotional manipulation, her siblings’ dependence, and society’s tendency to reward women for compliance.

Each expectation chips away at her autonomy, teaching her that selflessness is synonymous with worthiness. Henry faces a parallel struggle: his coach, teammates, and friends view him as a leader who must always be composed and dependable.

Beneath this façade lies a young man terrified of disappointing everyone. Both characters’ arcs highlight the corrosive effects of external expectations—the exhaustion of living a life defined by others’ definitions of success or love.

When Henry steps back from his captaincy and Halle learns to refuse unreasonable demands from family, they redefine success as personal peace rather than approval. Their mutual defiance of expectations becomes an act of quiet rebellion, suggesting that freedom begins not with grand defiance but with the courage to say, “This is enough.”

Healing and Safe Love

One of the most compelling emotional threads in Daydream is its portrayal of love as a space for healing rather than transformation. Both Halle and Henry carry emotional wounds—hers from years of invisibility, his from chronic self-doubt and emotional overload.

Their relationship is not about rescuing each other but about offering the kind of stability that makes healing possible. Henry’s gentle patience during Halle’s anxiety, his willingness to pause rather than push, and his instinct to protect rather than control all redefine masculinity within the romantic framework.

Likewise, Halle’s emotional intelligence allows Henry to confront his fears without shame. Their intimacy—emotional before physical—becomes a form of therapy, demonstrating that affection thrives most where safety is mutual.

The novel challenges the notion that love must be intense or dramatic to be meaningful; instead, it presents tenderness as the highest form of passion. By the final chapters, when both characters articulate their boundaries and choose each other freely, love emerges not as dependency but as partnership—a shared promise to notice, nurture, and sustain one another without erasing themselves.

Creativity and Expression as Freedom

Throughout Daydream, creativity serves as both escape and empowerment. Halle’s writing and her involvement in the book club reflect her longing to reclaim her voice after years of emotional silence.

Her artistic journey parallels Henry’s rediscovery of painting, creating a shared language between them that transcends words. Art becomes their way of communicating what they cannot easily express through conversation—grief, desire, fear, and hope.

When Henry illustrates Halle’s manuscript and records her audiobook, his gestures signify not just affection but recognition; he sees her fully, both as a woman and an artist. This creative collaboration underlines the idea that art flourishes most when it arises from authenticity and emotional truth.

For Halle, writing transforms from a solitary act of self-preservation into a bridge that connects her with others. Her success in the competition, though secondary to her personal growth, validates her belief that stories—especially her own—deserve to be told.

The theme of creativity thus mirrors the broader message of the novel: self-expression is not just a passion but a pathway to freedom.