We had to smell damp leaves, a spotty banana, and a leather shoe. Big deal. But then she passed around a box filled with coins. Most people don’t realize money has a smell, but it does. The minute I breathed in the flat, metallic scent, I saw myself squatting in front of the guitar case in Lexington, Conway, Biloxi, Tahoe, and a dozen other cities, separating nickels and dimes and quarters. I could feel the baggie that held the quarters for our laundry fund. Someone gave us a two-dollar coin once and I wanted to save it, but Mom said we needed it for gas money. Your hands smell after you handle money too, the same stink as the hangers at Goodwill. I bet nobody in all of Chickering Academy knows that smell. When the bell rang at the end of class, I walked out without looking at anybody.

Ginger calls from the bottom of the stairs. I take a deep breath and peer out over the landing. They all look up at me from the sofa. Ginger must have taken off work early. I know Dan’s skipping his own tennis practice. This is a big meeting. I want to climb out my window and hide on the roof.

“Long time no see,” Melissa says when I come in after walking as slowly as possible down the stairs. I am aiming at slothlike speed. She’s in all black again. I wonder if she owns anything else.

I sit down next to Ginger. This is just another test.

“I spoke with your school today. Seems like things are off to a good start?”

She wants me to elaborate. I don’t.

“Yes, Lou’s doing great in my class,” Dan says, sounding way too chipper. “We haven’t started essay work yet, but she’s a great contributor to group discussion.” This is not entirely true. I said one sentence about The Giver, and it’s because Dan asked me a direct question.

“And friends?” Melissa asks, ignoring Dan and looking only at me. “If I can think all the way back to middle school, I remember the social dynamic can be a bit… brutal.”

I blink back at her like I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“She’s taking theater!” Ginger says too loudly. “Her new friend Maxwell is in most of her classes, and he’s introduced her to the theater crowd. Right, Lou?”

I nod.

Melissa raises an eyebrow at me and writes something down. And then the silence stretches into minutes that feel like years.

“When can I see my mom?” I want to ask her about this SPD stuff. I want to know if any other teacher ever mentioned it and she never told me. I want to know what else she’s never said.

I see Dan put an arm around Ginger.