Page 72 of The Pass Protection
I thought of a farm in a neighboring town and how they mapped their property for some kind of simulator. With that knowledge, I decided to jump in. A sly smile slides across our professor’s face as surprise from me raising my hand registers. “What do you have for us, Mr. Riggsby?”
“You could market through a video game. It’s no secret that video games and apps are still all the rage. Gamifying the process could help consumers understand the complexities and benefits of modern farming techniques.”
With arms folded across his chest, Professor Ramirez raises an eyebrow. “Video games? Please elaborate on how this game might work.”
Sitting up straighter in my seat, a new thrill runs through me. As much as I love football, nothing compares to my love of agriculture. It’s been instilled in me since birth, and while I’m enjoying time away from the farm and seeing what else the world has to offer, I’m itching to get back to where it all started.
“The game could simulate a farm where players use precision agriculture tools to manage their crops. By creating a fictional farm, players will experience reality by making decisions based on weather patterns, soil conditions, and pest management. These are real variables that farmers must know how to handle and adapt to. The goal of the game would be to maximize yield while maintaining sustainability. Players could see the direct impact of their decisions.”
The girl next to me begins nodding enthusiastically while she bounces her pointer finger in the air. “That’s a great way to raise awareness of sustainable practices. And you could educate people who might not have exposure to farming. It could raise awareness and educate how important farming is to civilization.”
“And you can incorporate challenges or difficulties on each level,” a voice sounds from behind me, causing everyone to shuffle in their seats. “Players could solve real-life problems like drought, flooding, and pest infestation. It would make the game not only educational but fun and engaging.”
“I am impressed,” Professor Ramirez says, standing at the front of the room with a beaming smile.
Conversation continues around us as others give their opinions on how precision agriculture can be marketed. Some suggest transparency in farming practices, while others suggest direct-to-consumer sales, which cuts out the middleman. For the next hour, the class comes aliveas the conversation flows into new territories as we express challenges in agriculture.
“What a thrilling conversation full of different perspectives, but intriguing nonetheless. For our last major assignment of the semester, you’ll work in groups to develop a full marketing plan for your chosen educational component. Think about who you want your target audience to be, distribution channels, and promotional strategies. And remember, creativity is key.”
He pauses, gathering his notebooks as time ticks closer to the end of class. “I know the video game idea is fun, but other ideas exist. Choose your groups carefully that balance skills. A proposal is due by next Friday.” His final words are said in a rush as students gather their things.
Glancing around the room, my attention snags on the guy in the back who talked about the difficulty levels. He points to himself and then to me. I nod and join the scurry of people trying to find their groups.
“Care if I join you?” the girl sitting beside me asks.
I nod. “Sure, I’m Crew.”
“Lauren.”
“Eric,” the guy from the back introduces himself. The three of us funnel out of the classroom.
“Sounds like a lot of work,” Lauren says as she walks beside me.
While it will be a lot of work, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. This is why I came to school here.
“Yeah, but things like this can make a real difference.” My mind is already spinning as excitement to start the project has my fingers twitching.
The three of us exchange numbers and start a group chat to discuss meeting times. It turns out that Eric is on the wrestling team, whichmakes finding a time that much more challenging. Between two athletes and a girl who works part-time, our schedules clash.
Moving through the line of students as we make our way down the hall, my eyes land on a broad smile coming toward me. My eyes trail up denim-clad legs, a sliver of skin peeking out from her cropped long sleeve. Her hair is pulled through a cap, and she looks happy. Her eyes flick to the girl next to me, and I see her eyebrow arch in confusion. It’s slight, but I catch it.
Is my girl jealous?
“Can you guys send me your schedules, and I’ll work with my boss to come up with a date that works for the three of us?” Lauren asks, clutching her books against her chest.
I nod while Eric agrees. “See you guys Wednesday.”
The two of them go their separate ways as I wait on Bret. She stops, the toes of our shoes touching, as I smile down at her. “Morning, Rebel.”
“Morning.” Her smile never leaves her face. I love seeing her happy. Her smile is like coming up for fresh air. “Who’s your fan club?”
“New group assignment for a huge project.”
Turning on her toes, she takes her place next to me as we move out of the crowded hall and into a more secluded corner of the business building’s lobby. “Looks like it’ll be even harder to get alone time with you.”
“Speaking of alone time.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Crew Riggsby, I am not going to have public sex with you.”
