Know Not Why: A Novel by Hannah Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

… it’s something.”
    Because it’s true. Even though I like – nay, love – the idea of making Artie Kraft’s Arts ‘N Crafts
naught but a distant memory, there’s something in me, some heavy
feeling, that just can’t let me do it. I’m so sick of walking away
from stuff. And besides, at this point, if I did quit, I don’t
think anyone would be surprised. Didn’t go to school in California
even after getting in, getting the financial aid, that whole deal.
Didn’t let go of that whole no-college thing and actually attempt
to do something with his life anyway. Hell, if I stick around the
store for a month, my mom will probably bake another cake. Even if
it’s selling freakin’ ribbons to people from nine to five
every day while wearing an apron , I just want to stick with
something for a little while. Try that out.
    “You should stick with it, then,” Amber says.
I’m struck by the overwhelming urge to hug her or something, just
for being able to … to do that thing she does, where she can be right there , know exactly what to say or do, and yet it
always seems so effortless.
    I do okay in some departments.
    “Dennis might bring his girlfriend home for
Christmas,” I say, because I figure she deserves time to prepare. I
don’t really get how she deals with the Dennis thing, and, for all
our BFF-ery, she’s never really set out to tell me. I think she
gets that the whole he’s-my-brother-you’re-my-best-friend situation
is kind of weird.
    “Ah,” is all she says.
    “Just a forewarning.”
    “Right.”
    And so we sit there, two tragic specimens of
humanity, swinging slightly back and forth.

    +

    It warms up outside just enough to rain. Our
winter wonderland turns into an icy death trap. The ten minute
drive to work is enough to give me like six damn heart attacks. I’m
an okay driver; apparently everyone else on the road is a
psychopath.
    Everybody’s working today. I’m not looking
forward to seeing Kristy, like, at all. Or Cora, considering she
could have made more of an effort to tell me about the whole
Kristy-not-being-single deal. I don’t want to see Arthur either,
but at this point, that’s like saying, ‘I breathe on a regular
basis.’ Intrinsic to existence. Too obvious to mention.
    Kristy’s back to looking perfect, and she’s as
bouncy and happy as ever. She greets me cheerfully, and that really
gets under my skin. I guess I liked the idea that we would have
some shared anguish and shame The Day After. But apparently even
that’s too much to ask. She’s all pleasant, all, ‘Morning,
Howieee!’, and I realize that seeing me isn’t making her want to
curl up in a ball and die because she did have no idea. She
seriously thought I just wanted to be good buddies. How naïve, how
adorable. It really pisses me off. Didn’t her dad ever give her the
Boys Only Want One Thing speech?
    “Are you okay?” she asks. “You seem sad.”
    “No,” I reply, but I don’t put much effort into
it. “I’m great.”
    “Oh, good,” she says, resting her hand on my
arm. Platonically. “For a minute there I thought you were mad at me
or something!”
    “That’s ridiculous,” I say, trying to scoff and
instead just making this pitiful, wheezing sound, because this is
what she’s reduced me to. “Why would I be mad at you?”
    Cora sends a knowing smirk my way.
    “Anyway, it’s a good thing you’re in a good
mood,” Kristy continues, lowering her voice, “because Arthur
isn’t.”
    “He isn’t?” I’m interested, sure, but I don’t
get that happy soaring feeling in my soul.
    “He moved out of his apartment last night,”
Kristy explains, blue eyes wide. “He had to come stay with me and
my roommate Nikki, you could tell he was so embarrassed. Oh
my gosh, I felt so bad for him. He looked so sad, and even though
we made a bed up for him on the couch and everything, I don’t know
if he slept—”
    Captain Tragedy himself comes in, and Kristy’s
quick to go silent. He looks