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said. “Interesting. But don’t we have an obligation to figure out the truth?”
    â€œNot if lies make more sense,” Francesca answered cheerfully
    She did it again !!!
    â€œThat’s just stupid,” Brendan snorted.
    â€œI agree,” Nisha said. “Who cares if a lie makes sense. It’s just wrong.”
    Espee bowed her head. “Fair enough. But let’s avoid words like ‘stupid’ and ‘wrong.’”
    â€œEven if you totally disagree with someone?” Nisha argued. She glanced quickly at Lily, who glanced quickly
at me.
    â€œListen, guys, this is really important,” Espee said firmly. “In this class, there’s never just one answer, like in math. There are only
interpretations,
supported by
evidence.
So what about yours?”
    I realized she was pressing on my shoulder with a cool, dry hand.
    â€œMine?” I said.
    â€œYes, you. Our note taker.”
    â€œHer name is Evie,” Francesca announced. “Evie Webber.”
    Nisha kicked me
    â€œThanks, Francesca,” Espee said. She looked at me as if she was expecting something important.
    And then I panicked, because I’d totally lost track of this discussion. I stared blindly at the quote on the whiteboard:
History is a story we tell ourselves.
“Um. Well. I think lies always get found out, even if they
look
like they make sense. I mean, at first. But maybe . . .”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI don’t think that’s what the quote means. It’s about stories. And stories are different from lies.”
    â€œHow so?” Espee asked, speed-walking away from me. “Are stories true?”
    â€œThey don’t have to be. But they could be
based
on the truth. They make more sense if they are. In the long run. And, anyway, no one
means
them to be false, so it’s like they’re bigger than lies.”
    Kayla made a face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Evie.”
    â€œNeither do I,” I admitted. A couple of kids behind me laughed.
    But then I said, “Maybe stories just have more sides to them. So they’re more complicated than lies. And also more interesting.”
    â€œHmm. Very thoughtful, Evie,” Espee said. Her eyes sparkled at me from across the room, and I realized Iwas blushing. “Well, we’ll have to keep thinking about the difference between stories and lies, and why we tell ourselves U.S. history in the first place.”
    She reached her strong-skinny arm into a leather briefcase and took out some papers. Then she sat on top of her desk and crossed her legs like she was doing yoga.
    â€œAll right, then,” she said, in a campfire sort of voice. “If history is a story, whatever that means, this year let’s agree to tell ourselves the best, most fascinating story we can. So we’ll be doing very little textbook work. That’s the good news.”
    â€œWhat’s the bad?” asked Brendan
    Espee smiled. She started passing around the papers
    Nisha looked at me and murmured, “Omigod, Evie. She’s giving work
already
?”
    I didn’t answer. I just took a paper and read
    SP USH ATTIC PROJECT
    Step 1: Go up to your attic. (Interpret “attic” loosely.)
    Step 2: Find some family document(s) relating to a particular event or period in U.S. history—e.g., a scrapbook, a diary, some correspondence. Almost anything goes, as long as it’s written
    Step 3: Analyze closely, using multiple outside sources. (Take lots of notes. Try to fill a whole spiral notebook!
    Step 4: Find out all you can about the author. What sort of storyteller is/was he/she?
    â€”Don’t have an “attic”? See me for a Mystery Box.
    â€”Work in pairs; either person’s “attic” is fine
    â€”Start now. Make daily progress. Finish by September 18

chapter 4
    Twelve days?”
Nisha screeched as we left the building. “She’s giving us twelve