Nathaniel's Espionage: Dr. Calloway's Secrets

Chapter 34: The Bond That Time Forgot

Long before the heavy shadows of conspiracy and death began to creep into their lives, John Collins, Tyrence Brooks, and Cris Patel were inseparable. They had forged their friendship during the first year at Blackwell Academy, a bond that would seem unbreakable, formed in the light of laughter, shared dreams, and unshakable loyalty. This is the story of how it all began.

It was a sunny afternoon, late September, and Blackwell's campus was buzzing with the excitement of a new academic year. Freshmen swarmed the grounds, maps in hand, navigating the labyrinth of buildings that would define the next four years of their lives. Among the throng were three strangers who had yet to become best friends, standing at the beginning of a journey they didn't yet know they were on.

Tyrence Brooks, lanky and awkward, squinted down at his phone, trying to decipher the GPS directions to his dorm. "Why do they always make these maps so hard to read? It's like they want us to get lost." His voice carried the distinct blend of frustration and sarcasm that would later become his trademark.

Behind him, weaving through the crowd, was Cris Patel, struggling with a suitcase twice her size. "Move it or lose it!" she shouted, half-joking, half-serious, as she bulldozed her way through the mass of students. Despite her small frame, she was a force to be reckoned with—a human hurricane of determination and sass.

She came to a halt next to Tyrence, dropping her suitcase with a huff. "Do you mind? Some of us have real problems, like trying to find a place to store this mountain of luggage."

Tyrence glanced over at Cris, raising an eyebrow. "You planning to move into the dorm or open a department store?"

Cris shot him a glare, her lips curling into a smirk. "Ha, ha. I didn't see a sign that said 'comedy club,' but maybe I'm in the wrong building. Seriously, I think my entire life is in that bag."

Before Tyrence could respond, a third voice chimed in. "You guys lost too?"

Both turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered guy walking toward them, his backpack slung over one shoulder. John Collins, the all-American boy next door, had the kind of easygoing smile that put everyone at ease. His messy brown hair and the slight dimple in his cheek gave him a boyish charm that was hard to ignore.

"Lost? More like navigating the Bermuda Triangle," Tyrence quipped, waving his phone around as if it were a faulty compass.

John laughed. "Same here. I'm trying to find Reynolds Hall, but the map's a nightmare. You guys heading the same way?"

"Reynolds? That's my dorm!" Cris exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "Well, as soon as I find it, I guess."

John stepped up, nodding to her suitcase. "Need a hand with that?"

Cris eyed him warily but smiled. "I won't say no. If you can carry it without breaking your back, be my guest."

With a grin, John grabbed the suitcase as if it weighed nothing. "Easy enough," he said, though his arm muscles strained just a little.

The three of them set off together, navigating the campus with a mix of sarcasm, playful banter, and the occasional wrong turn. Along the way, they began sharing their reasons for choosing Blackwell. John was there on an athletic scholarship, hoping to balance his love for football with his major in engineering. Tyrence was the bookish one, there on an academic scholarship, a math whiz with a talent for coding. Cris, ever the wildcard, was pursuing business management but made it clear that she had bigger dreams than just a desk job.

They finally arrived at Reynolds Hall, where Cris, with dramatic flair, threw herself onto the grass in front of the building. "We made it!" she gasped, staring up at the sky as if she'd just survived a trek through the desert.

"At least you're not carrying this thing anymore," John said, dropping her suitcase with an exaggerated sigh.

Tyrence leaned against a nearby bench, shaking his head. "This campus is gonna kill me."

Cris sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. "First year, first challenge: conquering Blackwell. You two ready?"

John stretched, cracking his neck. "As long as there's food at the end of this challenge, I'm ready for anything."

The next few weeks flew by, and soon enough, the trio found themselves becoming a fixture at Blackwell. Despite their different backgrounds, they were practically inseparable. Whether it was study sessions in the library, late-night runs to the campus diner, or their notorious prank wars, they did everything together.

One particularly memorable evening, a random blackout hit campus. Most students retreated to their dorms, but not John, Tyrence, and Cris. They decided that a blackout was the perfect excuse for mischief.

"Let's break into the rooftop of Reynolds Hall," John suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Cris, ever the daredevil, immediately agreed. "I'm in."

Tyrence, the voice of reason (or so he liked to think), hesitated. "Guys, this sounds like a really bad idea."

Cris rolled her eyes. "Please, Brooks, you think everything's a bad idea."

John laughed. "Come on, man, live a little. What's the worst that could happen?"

As it turned out, a lot.

The three of them snuck up to the rooftop with minimal effort, thanks to John's athletic prowess. The view was worth it—Blackwell stretched out before them, the dark campus illuminated by a sky full of stars. For a moment, it was peaceful, almost magical.

Then Cris, in her infinite wisdom, decided to pull a prank on John. She snuck up behind him with a pitcher of cold water (where she got it, no one knows), and dumped it over his head. John let out a yelp, jumping back in surprise—straight into Tyrence, who, trying to avoid toppling over, grabbed the closest thing he could for balance.

That "thing" happened to be the rooftop's fire alarm.

The blaring sound of the alarm echoed across campus, and within minutes, they could hear the distant wails of campus security on their way. The three of them looked at each other in wide-eyed panic before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"Run!" John shouted, already sprinting for the stairwell.

Tyrence groaned, but followed. "This is the dumbest thing we've ever done!"

Cris, laughing so hard she could barely breathe, raced after them. "Totally worth it!"

The trio barely made it back to their dorms, breathless and exhilarated. They ended up hiding out in Cris's room, eating vending machine snacks and laughing until their stomachs hurt.

From that night on, their bond was solidified. They became the kind of friends who could read each other's thoughts with a single glance, who knew each other's strengths and weaknesses. They were there for the highs, the lows, and every ridiculous adventure in between.

Years later, as Tyrence sat bound in Dr. Calloway's office, the memories of those carefree days flooded back. The laughter, the pranks, the late-night talks about their future—they all seemed so distant now. He glanced at Cris, who was staring at the floor, tears still in her eyes.

John had been the glue that held them together, the one who could always make them laugh, no matter how dire things seemed. Now, John was gone, and everything had changed.

But even as the darkness of their present reality threatened to overwhelm them, Tyrence made a silent promise to himself. No matter what Calloway had planned, no matter how twisted the future might become, he would hold onto the memory of their friendship.

And he would make sure that John Collins, their brother, their friend, did not die in vain.