Chameleon ✔️

11 visions

The first thing I hear when I come to is my name.

"Alyssa! Alyssa!" He shakes my shoulders. "Alyssa!"

"I'm not Alyssa!" I spit as I open my eyes. I sit up slowly. I feel about as fine as one could feel after falling from a tree and getting the breath knocked out of them. But the height of the fall or the force of the fall is not what concerns me.

I whip my head in the direction in which I'd seen him, but there is no one there. There is no one anywhere. The park is empty besides those here upon Eli's request. But he had been there. Hadn't he? I'd seen him; I'd heard him call my name... hadn't I?

I conclude that I must not've been out for very long because my father and the others just now reach me.

"Asp— Alyssa, honey, are you alright?! What happened?" My father squats down and helps me up, hands on my arms.

"I'm fine," I say and shrug him off. Even though I know I can't say out loud what had really happened, for some reason I decide it's best for Dad to not know just yet, either. "I just slipped."

"Uh, it looked like it was a little more than that," comes from the peanut gallery.

"My foot slipped. I lost my balance," I repeat without looking back at him, angry. This is all his fault. I should never have let him throw me this stupid party. "That's it."

My father communicates his skepticism and worry to me through shades of green. I direct my next words to him, hoping he believes them. "I'm fine, Dad. Really."

My father nods, but his eyes do not soften, nor does his aura. He doesn't believe me.

I start towards the pavilion, eager to prove that I've not been hindered, pushing through the crowd of bystanders to my untimely collision with the earth. When we reach the picnic table, even though I've made sure to sit on the other end of the bench from him, I feel Eli's eyes on me, trying to ask a question, begging mine to meet them. They don't, and I hope he gets the hint.

The cake is one of those funfetti ones with chocolate icing, and it is entirely too sweet but I choke down the smallest possible piece I can manage without seeming rude. I have a plain hot dog with ketchup and everyone is in yellow and light blue spirits now that I'm okay — even Dad after a few minutes — and I play my part, just like I always have.

There is one gift bag on the edge of the table. I pretend not to notice it.

The adults ask what my plans are after graduation. Dad's stare could almost pierce a hole straight through my skull, but I'm proud when I keep my cool and answer without much hesitation. "My Dad and I like to travel during the summer." A smart answer on my part, if the vision I'd seen of Gray just moments ago holds any truth to his whereabouts. We will probably be leaving sooner rather than later.

Theresa nods her head. "Yes, Elijah told me that you travel for work, Andrew?"

I'm proud of him, too, as he avoids the obvious question and difficult answer. "Yes, but I've been fortunate enough to be able to take most summers off since her mother passed so that we can spend them together."

"That's wonderful."

A new voice enters the conversation, a voice on the other end of the table. "And what are your plans for college?"

I would ignore him if it weren't for the fact that his calling out to me down the line of guests has caused all eyes to pinpoint directly on me. He lifts a brow to me in challenge, and I know what he's doing. He's punishing me. Trying to get back at me for avoiding him. Saying, "There's no use trying to stay away from me; it won't work."