Staring at the student body, the Chameleon became aware that she had ceased to be all the things that made her flawed and weird and human.
She made a sweeping gesture with her arm from behind the podium, putting on her best politician voice as she hit the final leg of her speech.
“Design thinking,” she said, “is the process of discovery, the path to a smarter level of human accomplishment. By choosing to change, we abolish the obstacles that prevent our minds from adapting to new stimuli. By wanting, willing ourselves to become more, it simply happens. But it must be a team effort!”
Her little nod was almost a command. The auditorium went wild with applause.
She could remember being a normal high school girl. Glasses had magnified her eyes to a state of constant alarm. Braces had discouraged her smile. She’d walk apologetically through the hallways, avoiding the other teens like an opposing magic.
The students cheered for her transformation to a well-adjusted young woman. They were happy for her because it was easy, because her change was all surface. But she felt so deeply the void that reached across all of them. They didn’t care, and they didn’t bother faking it beyond the applause and cheers.
Jessi the Chameleon knew this, because she was an empath.
