The quiet hum of the university library was the only sound accompanying Sue's frantic search for a specific, obscure journal article on cognitive biases. Her psychology research paper, due next week, hinged on finding empirical evidence for a particularly niche concept, and the one physical copy of the "Journal of Experimental Psychology: Human Perception and Performance" from 2018 seemed to be perpetually elusive. She finally located the correct shelf, only to find the spot where the journal should be conspicuously empty. Frustration mounted as she scanned the surrounding volumes, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Just as she was about to give up and head to the circulation desk, a familiar figure appeared at the end of the aisle. It was Caleb, the third-year psych student she'd seen in her repeat second-year classes. He looked just as perplexed as she felt, holding the very journal she needed, flipping through its pages with an intense focus. Their eyes met, and Caleb's usually composed expression faltered, a faint flush rising on his cheeks as he realized he was holding the object of her unspoken quest. "Oh," he said, his voice a low mumble. "Are you looking for this?"

Sue felt a blush of her own. "I, uh, yeah, I am," she managed, gesturing vaguely. "For Dr. Davies' research methods project. It's the only hard copy." Caleb nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Same here. I'm trying to pull data for my own paper on attention and working memory. I guess we both have impeccable timing, or terrible luck." He offered a small, hesitant smile. "Tell you what, I just need to cross-reference a few figures. If you want to grab the table next to me, I can pass it over as soon as I'm done, and we could even compare notes?" It was an olive branch, extended with a shy charm that Sue found herself readily accepting.