HERE | Yulin Kuang
When Angie first meets Sam, she thinks wow, what an attractive idiot.
She’s doing renovations on the house - the gutters need cleaning, the fence is in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint, and the trip-wire by the gate could use some structural support.
He’s hanging by the door, a slightly dazed look in his eyes, his mouth hanging absent-mindedly half-open as he takes in the paint fumes.
“Umm, hi?” she asks, because Angie always greets strangers first.
“I didn’t think it’d still be here,” he mumbles to himself.
“Are you here for our SAT prep services?” She kind of doubts he is; he looks like the kind of guy whose essay would be so bad that it’d be pointless to give him notes because it would never actually be any good.
“What? No, I… I shouldn’t have come here.” He turns and slinks off into the sunset, which actually looks pretty epic from the porch and Angie thinks it’s times like these when she really misses Instagram, #nofilter.