Free JENNY LOPEZ HAS A BAD WEEK by Kelk Lindsey Page A

to think more about things. It was possible that the day I became an acolyte of Steve Jobs was the same day I lost my ability to read people in any way, shape or form. Nothing made sense if it didn’t have an Apple logo on it.
    I flicked through my emails, my texts, swiped past menus of games. And there, at the bottom of my app menu, I spotted something I didn’t remember. Oh man, it was the OK Cupid app. And it was flashing! I had messages! From men! My excitement subsided pretty quickly when I realized most of the messages started with ‘hey hot stuff, cute pic’ and included many emoticons. But still, I was officially still desirable to things with penises. This was a result. But where was the message from my dream man? Oh. Oh! It was there, I had a message!
    ‘You can’t be Oprah,’ I started reading out loud, despite the funny looks I was getting on the street. ‘I never wanted to fu— oh no,’ I looked up, red faced. The gist of the messages was that he hadn’t had the same biological reaction to a photo ofOprah that he’d had to mine. Which was kind of a compliment in a way. Only not. AJJ78 was not the one.
    Angie and I had made vague plans to meet up again later in the evening but I had all afternoon to amuse myself. I knew I should really use that time to clean Sadie’s room but perversity was taking over. She said she didn’t need luxury, why start off by lying? She could take it as she found it. Although it wasn’t totally unreasonable to expect me to clean the toilet. Which meant I needed toilet cleaner.
    Somehow the afternoon had gotten way hotter on the last leg of my walk, and so it was, red, sweaty and laden with Lysol, that I found my guest on the bottom step of my apartment. I dropped the Lysol. He picked it up. Shame he didn’t pick up my jaw at the same time.
    It was Jeff.
    ‘Hey.’ He held the bottle out to me as though I might bite. Cry yes, bite no.
    ‘Hi.’ I took the bottle back and cradled it to my chest. Jeff, Jeff, Jeff. He was on my doorstep. He was at my apartment. ‘What’s up?’
    I waited for him to drop to his knees and tell me what Angela had said about his being engaged was wrong and that he was actually here to take me away forever and ever and ever amen, but instead he just kind of shuffled on the spot and messed about with his belt buckle.
    ‘Seen Angela recently?’ he asked.
    ‘Earlier today actually,’ I replied. My mouth was completely dry. Why was this so hard? ‘Brunch.’
    ‘Oh, I saw her coming in just now. I, uh, she didn’t say.’ He was nodding to himself, not quite looking at me.
    There wasn’t any time to worry about how shitty I looked so I concentrated on trying to avoid bursting into tears. Preventative measures. ‘Should she have?’
    ‘I guess not.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I, uh, I have news.’
    ‘You’re joining the French Foreign Legion?’ Hysteria was very fast becoming an option for me. ‘Or you’re gay. One or the other.’
    ‘Yeah, no,’ Jeff bit his lip and squinted down at me. ‘I’m engaged.’
    ‘You know,’ I shoved the Lysol into my purse, even though it didn’t fit, and simultaneously ransacked it for my keys. Where the hell were they? ‘There are these amazing inventions called phones. This sounds like phone news. Why don’t you go home and give me a call and leave my answering service a real nice message?’
    ‘Jenny, please.’ He reached out for my arm but skin-on-skin contact was too much. I pulled back. It burned.
    ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ Jeff pleaded. ‘Jenny, I need one moment, please—’
    ‘Uh, is this a bad time?’ Another voice interrupted the thoughts of violence streaming through my head. I wasn’t certain as to whether I would be visiting that violence on Jeff or just on myself. Jeff wasn’t a short man, but Sigge towered over him. He was taller, blonder and he was there. It was too weird.
    ‘Sigge.’ I stopped searching for my keys and stared up at the Norse god in front of