Limitless: The Second Edition

Oliver

That night, at home, I decide to pop the CD that Ms. Dawson gave us into my CD player while I do my homework. Usually I do my homework at the kitchen table, but today, I'm upstairs in my room, just casually listening to "Standing on my Own" as I work through physics.

I try not to listen to the lyrics too much. Because these lyrics are deep. Very deep. They pretty much describe my life. This song takes place right after Anjan has an entire ego trip song about how great he is. Spoiler alert, he's not that great. He's a horrible excuse for a human being. And his oversized ego gets him locked up in the end.

It kind of reminds me of myself. It's always hard for me to watch this scene when I watch the musical. It's Enso sitting by himself, standing on a few occasions, singing his heart out about how badly he wants to fit in and be normal while the villagers mill around him, pretending he doesn't exist. It's exactly what I wish I could do. I wish I could stand on my own, with nothing holding me back. I wish I could burst into a heartfelt song in a public space and not be stared at or made fun of. I wish I could be normal.

As I look down at my homework and the song draws to a close, I discover that I've absentmindedly been drawing a little doodle of Enso this whole time. I decide to leave it. I finish the rest of my homework while trying to focus. Then I put my notebook and textbook away, and pull out my phone.

It's time to get back to what I started earlier.

Operation Find Courtney.

I messaged every Courtney Sheaffer I could find that looked like she could be about Hannah's friend's age. For those who had a private profile, which was only one of them, I requested to follow. In total I messaged about ten women. Now it's time to see if any of them answered me. I open my phone and have an internal freak out when I discover that five of them have responded to me. I begin reading the messages one by one.

Most of them are messages saying they never worked in a daycare program, and one is a condescendingly rude message using some choice words to essentially tell me to go away. The final message is from a tall brown-haired woman who looks like a popular actress turned singer from my childhood. Her profile stated she was a Broadway choreographer and lived in New York.

Boy, would Hannah be over the moon if this turned out to be her friend.

I open the message and read it.

Hi, Oliver! I read. I definitely worked in that daycare program before. Do you have a picture of your friend when she was little? I might recognize her. I definitely had a friend named Hannah. I won't be available until tomorrow though, so don't think I'm ignoring you if I take 24 hours to respond.

I can feel my heart pounding with excitement. Now I have to get ahold of Hannah.

As "I'm Not Broken" plays from the CD player, I pull out my phone and text her. "Hey, amiga, do you have a picture of you and Courtney when you were little?" I mutter to myself as I type the message. Hopefully she answers right away. I hope she isn't busy.

I sit my phone down on my desk and wait for her to answer. As I wait, I'm listening to the song. The Broadway actress for Enso's sister Sholta is a very talented twenty year old African American girl named Kaya Aquino. She's sassy and quite a fashionista. And boy, can she sing. Well, pretty much everyone in the Chain Breaker cast can sing. But as I listen to her voice, I'm not hearing her voice at all.

I'm hearing Hannah's voice.

My hand absently grabs one of my crutches and I'm about to use it as a microphone when my phone dings with a text message. I pick it up and am pleased to see that Hannah has replied to me with a photo. I open it and decide to gaze at it for a few minutes before I send it on.

In the photo, a girl dressed in a pilot outfit with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail stands smiling while a little Hannah clings to her, wearing her hat. It's absolutely adorable. I can't help but smile at baby Hannah. You could tell by looking at her she was going to grow up to be absolutely beautiful. Several things have obviously not changed; her smile, her hair, her freckles. Baby Hannah is so happy in this photo with Courtney. And that gets me thinking about the fact I may have just found Courtney.

I save the photo to my phone and go back into WorldChat. According to the DMs, she's gone offline. That's fine. She did say she would be offline until tomorrow. I am going to send her the photo anyway. I send it to her and type a message to go along with it.

Hey, thanks for asking for the picture, I type slowly, trying not to let my fingers trip over the keys in my excitement. She just sent me this. Hope it helps. If this is you, please know she really misses you. She still loves you. She wants to see you again more than anything. I don't know what all you did with her, but she hasn't forgotten you.

I hope this is enough. I hope I didn't just reveal Hannah's entire childhood to a person who isn't Courtney. I hope this is who I'm looking for. Twenty-four hours is way too long to wait. It's like running a race and seeing the finish line, but you're stuck running in the same spot.

Ah, running. Something I wish I could do.

I don't know what comes over me, but I decide to try something. Enso did this at one point, so maybe I can do it, too. I slowly stand up and attempt to walk on my own. But the second I attempt to put weight on my right leg, it gives way, and I fall. And that's when I remember that when Enso tried to walk on his own, he also failed.

"Oliver? What was that thud?" I hear my mom call.

"Nothing, Mom," I shout back, fighting back tears. "Not a big deal."

"Stop trying to walk on your own, Oliver," Mom responds. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Sorry, Mom."

I half expect her to come into my room. But ten seconds turns into half a minute, and half a minute turns into a whole minute. She isn't coming. Good. So since I can't walk on my own, and most likely never will, I decide to pull myself back into my chair and skip ahead on the CD to the biggest song, "Winner." I look over at my crutches and come to the conclusion that I might as well use them. I reluctantly grab them and stand up, limping over to my mirror. That's where I proceed to lip sync and act out the song like my life depends on it while staring into the soul of my reflection.