Fairy tales are real. And I refuse to believe that chivalry is dead.

I should know. My dad married a fairy tale princess.

That was a long time ago. I'm supposed to be too old to believe in fairy tales anymore, but I still believe. And I'm still looking for my knight in shining armor or prince charming to come sweep me off my feet and we can live happily ever after. Of course, I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. At twenty-one, I've started giving up hope. I know I'm still young, but I haven't even caught a glimpse of a prince charming, even in the hundreds of people I see every day when I walk from our apartment to school.

This morning is no different. There's just the usual people, self-centered and absorbed in their own lives. There are a few more people on the sidewalks since Christmas is getting closer. Everyone is all bundled up, hurrying down the sidewalks with their packages, bumping people on all sides and not even caring. There are a few flakes of snow falling from the sky, but nothing is sticking to the ground. The store windows scream their after-Thanksgiving sale prices, and cabs drive by, honking loudly.

Strange that I would be thinking about fairy tales in a place like this. I've always been different from other people. Even my clothes stand out - black leggings tucked into white boots, a bright red coat, and a mosaic scarf tying my curly hair back. The city I live in is so unimaginative that most people around me are dressed in dull grays and browns. I've had to learn to appreciate the beauty in the simple things. My stepmother – the fairy tale princess – taught me that. She also taught me to never stop believing and to never give up.

Even so, my thoughts are pretty depressed this morning. I can't wait to get to the bookstore where I stop every morning on my way to school for an hour to grab some coffee and do some reading for fun. I've always enjoyed immersing myself in a fiction book for a little while to get away from the dull reality that surrounds me. I just want something interesting to happen in my life.

I may have thought too soon.

I'm used to getting bumped around on these sidewalks, but someone jostled me harder than usual and my folder, notebook, and journal flew out of my hands. Some of the papers in the folder slipped out and scattered across the sidewalk, immediately being trod underfoot by the inattentive people walking by. My journal fell open, face down, with one corner in a puddle of water. Somehow my notebook, containing my writing that I hadn't yet put onto my computer, flew three feet away from me and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk in front of the store window.

Of course, I immediately picked up my journal. My precious journal with all my hopes, thoughts, fears, dreams, and secrets – the book that I never let out of my sight – had fallen on the ground. This was not a good start to my morning. My second thought was for my notebook; the school papers that had been in my folder were the least of my worries. Homework could always be redone, but fleeting imaginations could never be recaptured the same way again. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it through the pushing and jostling crowd fast enough, and someone else picked up my notebook.

A stranger holding my notebook – how dare he? I lost sight of it in the crowd and almost panicked, until a gloved hand appeared in front of my face, holding the notebook out. A deep voice asked, "Is this yours?"

I slowly reached out to take my notebook and looked up into the most beautiful amber brown eyes I have ever seen. "Um, yes." It was the most intelligent reply to ever fall from the lips of a damsel in distress – or not. I could have kicked myself. But those blue eyes were mesmerizing. "Thank you," I managed to add with a smile.

He smiled in return, causing his eyes to sparkle pleasantly. "My pleasure." He handed the notebook over into my care, but I wasn't really paying much attention anymore. I finally pulled my eyes away from his to take in the rest of his appearance. Dark blond hair fell over his forehead and he had laugh lines in the corners of his eyes. A blue and green scarf was wrapped around his neck over a long black overcoat. He was carrying a briefcase. So, basically, he wasn't that much different from everyone else around me. But there was something different about him, even if I didn't know what it was yet.

Oh no, he had said something, and I had missed it.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, brushing the hair away that the wind had blown into my face.

"I said that the papers on the ground must be yours, also," he repeated, bending over to set his briefcase on the ground and pick up the papers for me. Before I could even move, he had scooped them up and held them and my folder out for me to take. "I think I got all of them. Sorry about your journal."

I took the papers from him and stuffed them into the folder, not even noticing if they were in the right order. He had noticed my journal. I tried to shrug nonchalantly, but I couldn't ignore the fact that I was quite taken with this guy. "Well, you know, that's life."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he nodded and picked up his briefcase again. "Still, though, I have a journal just like it, and I would be pretty disappointed if it got messed up."

"You keep a journal?" I'm afraid my jaw might have dropped.

He laughed. "Yeah, what's so unusual about that? I don't write in it as much as I should, but I do have one."

"You're the first guy I've met who keeps a journal," I answered. "It's pretty cool, though."

He laughed again and held out his right hand. "I'm Devin. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Finally?" I was quite confused at this point. I mean, I was also thinking it was finally nice to meet him, but in a completely different sense than he meant, I assumed. I was thinking it was nice to finally meet a guy like him, who seemed to be pretty incredible and not just like all the others. And with such awesome eyes.

"We go to the same bookstore every morning," Devin explained to me with a grin. "Shall we proceed? I assume that's where you are going now."

"Oh, yeah, definitely." I was going to get to walk the rest of the way to the bookstore with this guy? It was too good to be true. I hoped he was a slow walker. No such luck – he had longer legs than I did and I actually wound up slowing him down, which was a change for me.

"I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, sorry," I laughed, feeling a little more at ease with him now. "I'm Morgan."

"Well, Morgan, where do you go when you leave the bookstore every day?"

His arm was swinging inches away from mine. It was a good feeling, having a walking companion. "I go to school. What about you?" I assumed he wasn't in school – he appeared to be a couple of years older than I was. And I assumed right this time.

"Work. I'm on the board of directors of my uncle's business." Devin scrunched up his nose. "It isn't the most exciting job, but it's good for now. I make enough money and still have enough time to do what I really like."

"And what's that?"

"Music. I'm a musician." He shook his head. "Well, I don't know about that, I guess. I've written some songs and I'm trying to find a producer."

My eyes widened, but I managed to keep my jaw from dropping this time. This guy was incredible! "Seriously? That's awesome."

"Yeah…what do you do? I mean, what are you going to school for?"

"Writing." I grinned over at him. "Hence the notebook and journal. I actually have a double major in English and creative writing."

"That sounds like fun."

I nodded enthusiastically. "It is, I love it." I felt completely comfortable with Devin now, as if we were old friends. There was just something about him. I wondered briefly if maybe he was my knight in shining armor I'd been waiting for, but immediately shoved that thought aside. I wasn't going to let myself daydream like that yet. I'd barely met the guy. And I needed to be able to focus on the conversation. By now we had reached the bookstore and Devin reached for the handle. He opened the door and looked expectantly at me.

Wait, was he holding the door open for me?

He gestured with his briefcase that I should precede him inside. I smiled brightly at him before doing exactly that. My morning had improved significantly in the last fifteen minutes.

Chivalry wasn't dead after all.