“And don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memory, leave out all the rest, leave out all the rest...” The melody of my favorite song played over and over through my headphones as I made my way through another day at work. Sorting books, putting them on shelves, the life of a library volunteer wasn't the most exciting thing I could have chosen. “But, it'll look good on work applications,” I reminded myself for the 50th time, “...I think. Why couldn't I have chosen a job where there's some interaction with other workers??”

Bam! At that exact moment, the door to my seclusion flew wide open. Dust scattered everywhere, a few stray papers fluttered across the floor. “Ow!” was all I could say, “Bright.. light!”
“Sorry,” a male voice called out from the doorway. I could see his silhouette well, but my eyes were still blinded. “Don't you ever turn on the light in here? Or maybe dust a little?” he asked.
“I just work here,” I persisted, annoyed at, well, whoever this intruder was. “Will you close that door? And besides, the light was turned on. You must have flicked the switch or something, when you flung open that door. Going for dramatic entrance? Well, I have to give it to you, it worked.” He chuckled, deep and throaty, and shut the door behind him. For a few seconds, we were enveloped in darkness. For a minute or so, I was worried. Why isn't he turning on the light? Who IS he, and what is he doing?? I thought, conjuring up all the worst possible scenarios. But then I heard a short *click* and, thank you electricity, the room was flooded with light. “Much better.” I muttered.

Trying to get back to my job, I grabbed another stack of cataloged books, and proceeded to set them on the right carts. Footsteps. Closer. Then a pair of sneakers appeared before my eyes, white sneakers, about a size 10, I estimated. Before the library, I had worked in a shoe store. The feet stayed still for a while. I picked up some more books. Then on of the toes started tapping. Rather irritated, I brought my head up jerkily to look at the face of whoever had entered this back room. I set my eyes to “power glare” and bore down upon him. But I wasn't prepared for what I saw. Black hair, blue eyes, a marvelous face and square chin. He was tall, too, over 6 foot, I guessed. The glare faltered. My mouth hung open a bit, but I clamped it shut. He started grinning, looking devilish and yet angelic at the same time. Who IS he?? I wondered yet again. But this time I voiced my thoughts.

“Who are you?” I asked bluntly, for lack of better words to say.
“I'm your dream come true,” was all he came back with. His voice was deep, caressing, and I fell in love with it immediately. How well would he sing? I wondered. That thought I didn't say out loud, though.
“A dream come true. Right. Look, could you please explain a bit more? And I should probably get back to work... don't want to get, I dunno, fired. Can a volunteer get fired? I guess so. Yeah, they can. That's what happened to Kerry, I'm pretty sure...” Oops. I was rambling. Always acting stupid around handsome guys, that's me!
“I'm a volunteer,” he said, picking up a few books and surprisingly putting them onto the correct carts, “just like you. Don't stand there- get to work! Mr. Carter hired me, said you could use a hand, and some company. Now that I meet you, though, I'm not so sure about that. You seem to be doing a pretty good job, just you and your iPod. What is that, a Classic?”
“Nano.” I was surprised. Mr. Carter had never seemed to notice me, or care about me, and I certainly never asked for an assistant. Wished, yes, but never asked. “What's your name?” I blurted out.
“Matt. Yours? What kind of music do you have on there, anything good?”

I had so many questions, about him, about who he was and where he lived, and just everything, but all I did was answer.
“I'm Kacey. You can think up a nickname if you want, but whatever you do, don't pick Kace. And yes, I think I have good music, but that depends on what defines “good”. My good might be far different from your good.”
“Cool. Not Kace? Why not? How about.. Kay Kay, does that work for you? Or just Kay? What artists do you have on there? What generation Nano is it? You're still just standing there...” The rest of the day went in quite a similar way. He peppered me with questions, we discussed many topics. He didn't seem to mind my dry humor, my sarcastic tone, like Kerry had when she tried working with me. I actually wondered some days if she got fired on purpose because she didn't enjoy my company. Matt was the exact opposite. We started by discussing music, questions about when I got my iPod, how much I enjoyed it, why Linkin Park was my favorite band, why 'Leave Out All The Rest' was my favorite song, and so on and so on. We talked movies, books, work, just life! I even asked a few questions in edgewise. Matt didn't reveal many details about himself, though; I guess I didn't mind. I was enthralled, captivated, and not just by those blue eyes and wavy hair. But I did have to admit to myself, he sure was fine looking. But also I was interested in his view on things. Politics, government, the media. Life in general. He had a kind of zest about him, a passion for everyday things. By the time 5:00 rolled around, I didn't want to leave the dusty back room I used to think of as a prison- as long as Matt didn't leave either. But all too soon, he needed to leave. “Give me your phone number?” He asked. I readily consented. “Do you text?” Another question of his.
“Of course,” I replied, “I mean, who doesn't?”
Matt smiled at me again, showing pearly white teeth, lined up in a row. He must have had braces as a child.

Finally, I couldn't help myself, I had to ask. “Will I see you tomorrow? Here, at work, I mean.”
He walked out the door, leaving me with one parting thought: “Maybe.”

Later that evening, at maybe 5:30, I found myself standing outside Mr. Carter's office, knocking on the door. “Come in!” He shouted.
“Hi, Carter,” I said, going inside and shutting the glass door behind me. “I'd like a bit of information... that new guy you hired, Matt, do you know his last name? And phone number?”
My boss looked confused, muddled, and somewhat like a dog as he shook his head and said to my shock and dismay, “I don't know what you're talking about, Kacey. I haven't hired anyone new since Mrs. Henderson left. But we're looking for another volunteer to take her place at the desk...” The rest o his sentence never hit my ears. Then who really was Matt? I questioned myself over and over, extremely worried by then. I jumped as my phone went *beep beep beep*, the signal that I got a new text. Reading it, I almost fainted.

From: Matt M.
Subject: Dream come true
How you doing, Kacey? I've never met a girl like you. In a good way, of course. Here's a picture of us to remember me by. I snapped it when you weren't looking, remember? I won't be coming back to work anytime soon. Miss you already.
Yours, Matt.

The whole rest of my drive home, I was breathless. Who was he? What did he want? I was so confused. All I could think was... he really had been a dream come true.