The Body in the Woods by April Henry

Author:April Henry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan Children's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 25

SATURDAY

ALL THE CHOICES IN THE WORLD

The homeless guy was staring at her, confused. From her backpack, Alexis took the printout with her mom’s photo. “This is who I really meant,” she said. “This is my mom.”

He squinted at the photo, then shrugged and leaned back against the wall. “At least that one looks old enough to be your mom. But her I haven’t seen.”

This wasn’t getting her anywhere. But what he had said nagged at her. Why had he recognized Miranda? Alexis took out the news story again.

“Why do you know this girl? And what did you say she was?”

“I don’t know her.” He looked at the headline. “Or maybe I should say I didn’t know her. Because it looks like she’s dead. But I’ve seen her around. She’s one of those stupid oogles.”

“What’s an oogle?”

“Oogles are posers. They like to hang out and pretend they’re part of the ‘homeless scene.’” He waved his hand at a man sleeping underneath a bench, a tattooed girl curled up on the pavement, an older couple with a dog and a coffee cup containing coins that the woman rattled hopefully. “Like this is a scene. Like this is a choice, like it’s some party you can drop by and then leave when you get tired of it. But for some stupid reason, oogles like to playact.”

“Wait. You’re saying this girl liked to pretend she was homeless?” Alexis thought of the other dead girl in the article Ruby had shown them. That girl had been homeless.

“Some rich kids get off on that. They come around, and they try to talk the talk, walk the walk, the entire act. They’ll get a piece of cardboard and make a sign and spange.”

“Spange?” Alexis echoed.

“Beg for money. You know”—he changed his voice to a whine. “‘Got any spare change?’ When really they’re all from Beaverton or the West Hills, and they’re not homeless. They’re just bored. And because they’re bored, they’re the ones who get drunk and stupid, they’re the ones who vandalize stuff or tag, and we’re the ones who get blamed for it.”

Alexis nodded slowly. Now Miranda’s Facebook photos made sense. She had been slumming, partying with the homeless. Or, perhaps more likely, with other kids who liked to pretend they didn’t have parents or homework, that they didn’t even have a home.

“They try to act like they’re just like us. But at night, they’re not sleeping in a shelter or behind a Dumpster. They’re not going to bed hungry. Because they have nice warm beds and nice warm meals waiting for them at home.” He spit out the word home like it was an obscenity. “It’s like sitting in a wheelchair because you think it will be fun and then hopping out when you get tired of it. Well, we don’t get to hop out. Do you think I like living like this? I don’t have any choice, but those stupid kids have all the choices in the world.”

“But my mom’s not an oogle.

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