Chapter 13
Three weeks of spending every waking minute preparing for the game jam had prepared me as much as was possible.
There was nothing left to do but play. I made it to check-in easily enough—even without a cursor showing my location on the SCAD map—and entered the theater-sized room.
It sat about a hundred, with a giant screen on the wall at the front looping a slideshow of life on campus.
Lin and Charisse thought I was trying to kill myself from overwork.
I’d spent every spare moment practicing for the game jam as if my life depended on it.
Well, my future did, though they didn’t know that.
I’d need every advantage I could get. I’d built some small game levels, and I had my notebook of ideas.
With a little luck and hard work, I could win that coveted scholarship.
At best, I felt like a ghost; at worst, like a zombie with nerve endings. Luckily, I’d had a good night’s sleep, because over the next forty-eight hours, there’d be little time for rest.
I sat down among the other contestants, who all seemed older, wiser, and much more prepared than I.
Many were talking about previous game jams where they’d won prizes.
I hadn’t played a game in weeks. Forget about finding the Dragon’s Eye for IK.
To be fair, I’d been avoiding him. It turned out it was easier to avoid someone when you only knew them by their gaming handle in a single game.
Still, the thought of his response to my confession scared me to death.
I knew what I’d meant by saying that I wouldn’t know what to do without him, but had he?
Would it change our relationship? Would he want to meet?
I shoved the circling thoughts that had chased me since that moment back into their bag. There wasn’t time for that now.
I thought I would feel more comfortable around people speaking my language—games, coding, engines, assets—but the majority were guys who made me want to forget about my hopes and dreams. They looked me up and down, leering at the fresh meat.
Pulling my jean jacket closed, I hugged my backpack.
Despite the continued summer heat outside, the lecture hall felt like the Snow Queen’s throne room.
Finally, a man with graying dark hair moved in front of the lectern to shouts and clapping from the crowd, and the slideshow stopped.
He reeled off all the annoying but necessary information, somehow making it fun.
Like popular teachers do. Then he explained the rules and expectations of the contest.
“And what you’ve all been waiting for. The theme for this year is...”
A word appeared on the screen: Sweetheart
I felt first place slipping through my grasp. Could they have picked a theme I’d be less enthusiastic about?
The room erupted into conversation as overly friendly seniors were assigned to each contestant, then we were guided to our individual workrooms. Each one was a mostly glass cubicle with windows for writing out problems and ideas, equipped with computers and everything else needed to build games.
The couch didn’t look that comfortable. Luckily, we’d been assigned dormitory rooms, though I wasn’t planning on using mine until after submission.
I had only slotted eight hours for sleep.
Every second of the next forty-eight hours had been scheduled for creating the optimal mini-game.
Ideas bubbled in my brain. Make a game based on the theme “Sweethearts.” Ugh.
Despite the turmoil it caused my emotions, I remembered being under the willow with IK next to me; I smiled. Video games could be very romantic. He could be my inspiration for my own game build. No one would have to know.
Calls were allowed, but not receiving files or photos, and no AI of any kind.
Maybe I could phone-a-friend. Ni immediately came to mind, but that was a hard no.
I didn’t know the phone numbers of anyone in my programming class, let alone his.
And if I contacted Mom, she’d have no idea what I was talking about.
Charisse would waste half the day talking my ear off. That left Lin.
“How’s it going? Have you started yet?” She always got right to the point, even when answering the phone. No “hellos” from Lin.
“It has the absolute worst theme. “Sweethearts.” How am I supposed to make a fighter game about that?”
“Did you ever think about making a different type of game? Not everyone likes to fight, you know.”
“But I do.”
“Well, try to think outside the box. Sweethearts...sweethearts.”
I could hear Charisse in the background, her voice mumbled as if she was chewing on something. “Those are my favorite candies. Yum. Those chewy ones with the extra sour...”
“No, Charisse. Not the candy, I said sweethearts...not tarts. Sorry, she needs to clean out her ears,” Lin said.
Charisse’s words brought back the memory of the day I met Lin. “No. You guys gave me a great idea. Talk later.” I hung up and hit the computer so fast that I was surprised the keys didn’t melt.
I wrote and sent in my design document, then started on the very basics of the levels before I lay down the first night. I tossed on the narrow surface of the couch as my mind turned over the things I needed to do. Dipping in and out of sleep.
Scrubbing sleep from my eyes after the four-hour rest, I got right back to it.
While there wasn’t a lot to show for it yet, I knew my game was well on its way to solid with three levels to put my sprite through.
But my brain was mush after the second round of productivity, so I collapsed on the squeaky pleather couch once again.
The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of pizza delivered by my assigned helper, I sat back down at the computer.
I knew many people didn’t finish game jams because they tried to make their scope too big or ran into coding troubles that made their game unplayable, but I was sitting pretty with the basics of the game done and functioning as they should.
The mechanics were looking good. Swing, swing, smash. The brown square, which would eventually be a chocolate bar monster, went down, and my blue square sprite pushed the button to open the cage, releasing Sprite Girl’s sweetheart.
With only ten hours of the allotted forty-eight left, I breathed a sigh of relief. All three levels were working perfectly.
A trumpet fanfare would be perfect for this moment, but first I needed to add in the art.
I made fairly generic candy enemies so I could spend more time on my heart lollipop weapon—beating some enemies down with love in the name of love was ironic enough for me—and my two main characters: the Princess Adventurer and her Prince Charming.
If there was time left in my art segment, I’d go back and polish the levels a bit more. Art wasn’t my strong suit, which was why I’d chosen a pixelized design, and I now scrounged for the perfect assets that I could modify with my color palette.
The princess’ dress had to be blue. And for the sweetheart—well, any resemblance to a certain prince with red pants and a cream jacket was pure coincidence. I smiled. IK would have something to say about the fairytale influences.
I added a few sounds and found some stock music that, with a bit of layering and changing of tempo, worked well enough. And then there was the trumpet fanfare for the final moment. Some noises for the swings and whacks of the lollipop, which I had made pink in honor of Lin.
Time. There was still time. I could add in the boss fight that I hadn’t had time for yesterday. A giant gummy dragon. The lollipop would do less damage as it bounced off the gelatin dragon hide. Yes. The coding came pretty fast, line after line adding up. Now, for another test.
My princess, in her blue, puffy-sleeved dress, entered the last room of the third level where the red gummy dragon sat upon its hoard of candy, blocking the button that would release the cage.
And the game crashed.
THE WHOLE SCREEN TURNED blue! No—not the blue screen of death. Not now, when I was so close.
I scrambled to recover what I could. There were only a few hours left. I didn’t want to lose by having nothing to submit. I set an alarm, giving me time to turn it in at the last possible minute. Only the top three would be awarded scholarships.
Corrupted code met my bleary eyes. I rewrote what I could and flinched at how messy some of it was. There wasn’t time to make it as streamlined as I would have liked. There wouldn’t even be time for a final test.
Too soon, my alarm went off. I did a quick scan. Nothing stood out. I pressed the submit button. Hopefully, nothing would go wrong with the submission process because I hadn’t left myself any cushion.
I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my eyes.
My part was done the moment I had clicked the button.
A notification came through confirming they had received my game.
If it ran as it had earlier today, I’d have a good chance of getting placed.
But I didn’t know whether the judges would see a blank screen.
The results wouldn’t be out until this evening, when they announced it at an awards ceremony.
Only then would I know if I could come here in the fall or not.
I mentally prayed that Sweetheart Rescue ran now.
I’d heard it was notoriously difficult to submit working games to a jam, but I hadn’t believed my own code would fail me.
I felt that I had kept my scope small enough.
If only I hadn’t added that boss fight at the end.
Everything was working perfectly before that.
I needed to stop thinking about it. My brain was fried like a green tomato, and my stomach grumbled. I flagged down my assigned college representative.
“Hey, I’m finally ready to go to the dormitory.” The two four-hour sleep cycles I’d allowed myself during the jam were wearing off.