The Jacket by Andrew Clements Page A

of you in the eye.”
    Daniel kept looking straight ahead at Mrs. Cormier. When Phil was seated, she said, “Phil, you’ve got no business being in the four-five hall in the morning. Why were you there?”
    â€œMy brother, Jimmy, forgot his lunch money. And I still have to give it to him.”
    Mrs. Cormier nodded. “All right, that makes sense. Here,” she said, putting out her hand, “give me his money, and I’ll make sure he gets it.”
    Phil dug in his pocket and gave the coins to the principal. She put them on her desk and then turned to the other boy. “Okay, Daniel, you first: What happened?”
    â€œWhat happened is, I’m talking with my friends, and this kid comes and grabs me and starts yelling at me. I’ve never seen him before. I didn’t do a thing!”
    Mrs. Cormier turned to Phil. “Did you grab him, Phil?”
    â€œYeah, ’cause he stole my brother’s jacket! That’s my old jacket, and now it’s my brother’s, and this kid stole it, so I grabbed him.”
    â€œLiar!” Daniel jumped to his feet and faced Phil, his fists clenched. “I never stole a thing! My gramma gave me this jacket for my birthday, and that’s the truth, so you stop saying that!”
    â€œDaniel,” said Mrs. Cormier sharply, “you sit down and stay put!” Mrs. Cormier swept her eyes between the boys. “I think this is a simple misunderstanding. Phil, isn’t it possible that Daniel happens to have a jacket just like your brother’s?”
    Phil shook his head forcefully. “No way. My mom bought that jacket when she went to Italy, and she brought it back for me. Go ahead, look at the label inside the neck. It’s gonna say ‘Ricci di Roma.’ That’s because she got it in Rome. Go ahead and look. That’s my jacket.”
    Mrs. Cormier stood up and walked around to the front of her desk. “May I look at the label, Daniel?”
    He shrugged and stuck his lower lip out. “I don’t care. ’Cause this isn’t his jacket.”
    The principal gently pulled the collar of the jacket back, and then twisted her neck and adjusted her glasses. Her eyebrows shot up. “It says ‘Ricci di Roma.’”
    â€œSee? I told you so,” said Phil triumphantly. “He stole it!”
    â€œDid not, you big liar!” And if Mrs. Cormier hadn’t been on her feet to catch him, Daniel would have been on top of Phil, fists swinging. She pushed him back into his chair and shouted, “Silence! Not another word, either of you!” Calling to the secretary through the open door, she said, “Mrs. Donne? Get me the emergency cards for Philip Morelli and Daniel Taylor, would you—right away.”
    Thirty seconds later Mrs. Cormier was dialing her phone, then smiling and speaking. “Mrs. Taylor? This is Mrs. Cormier, the principal at Daniel’s school. . . . No, he’s fine, but there’s been a disagreement this morning, and he’s in the middle of it. It’s about a jacket, the one Daniel says he got for his birthday. Another boy is here, and he says the jacket belongs to him. Can you tell me anything else that might help? . . . Yes. . . . Oh. I see. . . . So it was a gift. . . . Yes, I see. Well, that’s it, then. I’m awfully sorry to have bothered you. . . . Yes, you too. Good-bye.”
    Daniel turned to Phil. “See? I told you so. It was a gift—for me.”
    Mrs. Cormier said, “It turns out you’re both right, boys. Someone gave that jacket to your grandmother, Daniel, and then she gave it to you.”
    Phil made a face. “Gave it to his grandmother? How come?”
    Mrs. Cormier started to say something, then stopped, smiled awkwardly, and said, “Well, really, I . . . I think it was just . . . to be kind. That’s all.”
    Something registered in Phil’s mind, and his mouth dropped open. Turning to