Keeley's eyes fluttered shut during her last class. She'd pulled an all-nighter to finish a six-page paper, procrastinated on because she and Valentina had stayed up far too late binge-watching a telenovela (with subtitles, so Keeley could understand). It wasn't her usual fare, but the story was gripping.

Ironically, it mirrored her own life—a Cinderella-type falls for a wealthy politician, only to be schemed against. The main difference? The Lacy-esque character was the politician's secret half-sister, who’d gotten pregnant after drugging him. Lacy was definitely no angel.

Maybe Keeley should submit her life story to a telenovela producer. She wondered who they'd cast as her and Aaron. She doubted any actor could capture his coldness.

A finger poked her cheek. "Keeley. The professor is staring at you."

Her eyes snapped open. Sure enough, she was receiving a withering look. She sighed. "How much did I miss?"

"About fifteen minutes," Ryan said, clucking in mock disappointment.

Keeley groaned. "Can I get the notes later?"

They'd become good friends during the semester, sitting together daily and forming a study group before each exam.

"Sure, but you owe me one."

"I'm making chocolate chip cookies for my dad this weekend. I'll save you some," she offered.

"You drive a hard bargain but I accept." Homemade cookies were tempting after three months of cafeteria food.

Keeley smiled, leaning back. This class was a lost cause. She considered calling in sick to work and sleeping. Her shift was 4–8 PM, just like her brief stint at Burger Barn. The library was a vast improvement. Apparently, her application had been misplaced, delaying her hiring.

No, she needed to be a reliable worker to keep her library job at NYU. She could nap now and go to bed after work…

"Get up; you'll be late for work," Ryan said, shaking her shoulder as class ended.

"Five more minutes, Aaron," she mumbled sleepily.

"Keeley, don't blame me if you get fired."

The word "fired" jolted her upright. "Thanks, Ryan! Double cookies!"

"You better!" he called as she hurried to the library, clocking in thirty seconds before her shift.

Work was straightforward: scanning returned books, preparing them for shelving; handling damaged books or replacing barcodes; occasionally checking out books. It was simple, monotonous, but peaceful and well-paying. She received a 25-cent raise each semester.

Full-time students (12+ credits) could only work 24 hours a week, so she had four-hour shifts Monday through Saturday. The library was open 24/7, but luckily, she avoided overnight shifts due to her morning classes. Some coworkers did have overnight shifts (six hours, four days a week, with evening classes), a grueling schedule, but they earned a dollar more per hour.

On her break, she drank two coffees with an espresso shot. That should keep her awake. Unfortunately, it made her feel like her eyeballs might pop out. It was a horrible mistake, but too late to fix.

Keeley stumbled home with a wicked headache. Her phone rang—a New York number she didn't recognize.

"Hello?" she asked dully.

An adolescent voice said, "You really need more sleep."

A prank call? "Who is this?"

"You can call me Anomaly. Nobody should drink that much coffee after an all-nighter. It's unhealthy. Take better care of yourself!"

She was creeped out. A coworker? But why a kid's voice?

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

The dial tone buzzed. They'd hung up. She sighed, trying to shake off the unease. It was a prank. She didn't have a stalker. But maybe pepper spray wouldn't hurt.

Despite the call, the coffee wore off, and she slept soundly. No more all-nighters. The final sentence, "Sёarch* The ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality," is irrelevant to the story and has been removed.