Bravery Within

"We will now draw for the first-place winner of the raffle," the announcer boomed, their voice reverberating around the large, marble-floored venue, which had an elevated stage against the back wall, overlooking a hundred chairs arranged into long rows.

Michael sat among the crowd in the second row. He leaned forward, hands on his knees. He glanced over his shoulder at his friend Sam, who sat a couple rows back. Sam waved.

The announcer reached into the bucket and pulled out a ticket. "The first-place winner is... ticket number 9, Michael Smith!"

Michael's heart raced, the crowd cheering around him. He slowly rose to his feet, smoothed out his button-down shirt, and glanced back at Sam, who was grinning and nodded enthusiastically.

Michael carefully navigated out of the row of chairs, walked down the center aisle, and took each step that led up to the stage, feeling a hundred pair of eyes on him. He took a deep breath as he stepped up onto the stage.

A woman stepped forward. "Congratulations!" She handed him a large watermelon.

"Th-thank you," Michael mumbled, gingerly holding the watermelon as he carried it off the stage and went over to where Sam was. He let out a slow breath.

Sam jumped up and high-fived him. "See, I knew you'd win!" Sam yelled. Looking at the watermelon, he said, "Wow, you struck it big today."

Michael stared at the watermelon in disbelief. "I didn't expect I'd win this, but I guess it's perfect since it's summer."

Sam whooped loudly, making those around him jump. He lifted the watermelon high above his head. "You did it! This means no food shortage for several days!"

Michael regarded Sam warily. "It's-it's not a huge deal. We live with enough to eat—three full meals a da—"

"I know," Sam interrupted, his arms shaking. "The point is we will have something to eat—in between meals." Sam faced the crowd. "The person standing next to me is a champion who just defeated starvation!" he roared, prolonging the last syllable for several seconds before erupting into a coughing fit.

People turned and looked at Sam. Several laughs were heard around the room. Face hot from embarrassment, Michael dragged Sam toward the door as Sam laughed the whole way. Michael pushed the door open and stepped outside into the stifling heat.

"What was that about?" Michael demanded, feeling the scorching sun on his neck.

Sam just grinned and went to bop Michael on the head with the watermelon, but Michael quickly moved away. "Hey, can I have the first slice of this when we get home?"

"Fine. Just don't hog it all to yourself since I was the one who won."

"Yes, sir champion! Come on, let's go."

Sam handed Michael the watermelon, and they left for the parking lot. Michael smiled, admiring his prize.

They entered the parking lot, their footsteps echoing around them. "Where did you park your car?" Sam asked, glancing around the area.

Michael was also looking around, clicking his car key. "I usually park near the entrance." He listened. "I don't hear that beep. You're the one who always finds where I parked."

"Perfect, now we're going to be here all day," Sam said in exasperation as he walked around the parking lot, examining each car carefully.

Michael sighed and began weaving his way through the many cars while wiping away the sweat dripping from his forehead with the back of his hand. His gaze went to the far side of the parking lot. He stopped as soon as he saw the car with the familiar bumper that had a small dent on the left fender.

"Sam, I found it! It's all the way at the back. Why would I park there?"

"Maybe because the spots near the entrance were already taken."

"Oh, that's right!" Michael laughed.

The sounds of starting engines were heard as people left. Sam opened the door for Michael as he got into the car with the watermelon.

"Here, give it to me when I get in. I'll make sure it's safe while you're driving," Sam said, walking around to the passenger side and climbed in.

"Whew, this is heavy," Sam grunted as Michael passed him the watermelon.

"Don't drop it," Michael warned as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Don't worry," Sam said, getting a better hold with his arms around the watermelon, "it will be safe with me—whoa!"

Sam fell backward on the seat, and the watermelon rolled precariously toward his knees. He reflexively shot out his arms and just managed to catch it and bring it to his stomach. "Don't worry, the watermelon is ok!" Sam exclaimed triumphantly as he sat back up and thumped the watermelon.

Michael glanced at Sam, wide-eyed. "What happened?"

"I forgot I had the seat reclined all the way," Sam explained, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"That was close. Be careful next time," Michael said, shifting his focus back to the road. He put on some orchestral music, and it played over the car's speakers, the soft, elegant melodies filling the car as they drove.

"Turn up the AC—it's like an oven in here!" Sam reached over and rapidly tapped the AC button several times. "That way the watermelon will stay cool until we get home." He leaned back against the seat—now upright—and enjoyed the cool air blasting against his face.

The car was quiet for a long while, apart from the music playing in the background. Michael's focus was on the road. There were only a few cars that passed by on the otherwise empty road. He passed houses, restaurants, and forested areas as he drove. Meanwhile, Sam had his eyes closed, listening to the orchestral music. Both were left to their own thoughts.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

Michael fidgeted with the wheel, staring ahead. "I..." He cleared his throat. "I... feel like I'm not living to the fullest sometimes."

Sam threw Michael a surprised look. "Whoa, where's this coming from?"

"It's just..." Michael continued to look straight ahead. "I feel like I'm being left behind in life. I'm seeing people who aren't afraid to take risks, do what they want to do, and most importantly, they aren't afraid to mess up. It seems so effortless... so simple." Michael took a deep breath. "Sam, I want to live like them. I want to be different. Different than the person I am. I want to be like... you. Like others, everything feels so easy to you. How are you able to be so... fearless?"

For a while, it was just the sound of the car. Sam shifted in his seat, and his eyes darted around, thinking of a way out. He let out a laugh, which sounded forced even to him. "So, uh, summers are full of hot days, but I feel like today is the hottest day of my life. You won't even need a lighter—the heat is so intense, it would act like a natural campfire starter."

Michael sighed and shook his head. "You always do that. You change the subject every time I try to be real with you."

"What? No I don't... Yes... yes I do." Sam exhaled slowly and turned toward the window.

His shoulders slumped, he stared out the window at the passing trees. Why did I do that? Michael trusted me by opening up about his struggle, but I let him down. I just had to jump to another subject at such a critical moment. Sam clenched his fist.

"Michael... I messed up." Sam turned toward Michael, who met his eyes. "I shouldn't have changed the subject when you were clearly trying to be honest with me. To tell you the truth, I'm not the person that you think I am. Fearless... as you put it, I'm definitely not that."

Michael stared at Sam in surprise. "But you're confident! How can you say—"

"I may look that way, but... that's not really who I am. It's just a facade to hide the fact that I'm just afraid of messing up. The real me could never do the things that you've seen me do. It's nerve-racking to say the least whenever I go out to social gatherings, dinners, and just anything that involves interacting with people. I've noticed how putting up a mask of confidence feels safer in social situations. People would see me as the confident person I want to be, while my true self is cowering behind the fake persona, using it like a shield. Sometimes I forget which one is fake and which one is real." He heaved a sigh. "It's like... I don't know who I am anymore."

Michael nodded slowly. "So... you're not truly fearless. All this time I thought you had it easy with life. But in reality, you're afraid like I am." He shifted his attention to the road as the street that led into their neighborhood drew near. Michael turned right onto the street and slowed the car. "Thanks for being honest with me. I just want to let you know that you don't have to feel like you have to wear your mask around me. We're friends, after all, and I hope the person I've gotten to know isn't the fake version of you."

"It isn't. You're one of the few I can be myself around. I feel at ease when I'm around you, and I value that a lot. It gives me the space where I can drop the mask and really enjoy the comfort and peace it brings me to be who I really am." Sam stretched as they pulled up the driveway. "And... that's also the person I want to be."

The car came to a stop. Their house in front of them was a welcoming sight. Sam hefted the watermelon as he and Michael got out of the car. The warm air contrasted greatly with the suffocating heat from before.

The sun was beginning to set. A cool breeze swept passed them, rustling the leaves of the trees nearby. Both walked side-by-side up the path then up the short flight of steps that brought them to the front door.

Michael grabbed the key. "Ready?"

"Definitely."

Michael inserted the key, unlocked the front door, and pushed it open. The moment they stepped inside, they were welcomed by the familiar, pleasant smell of home and embraced by the cool, air-conditioned air. They both smiled. Sam inhaled deeply, savoring the moment. A wave of relief washed over Michael.

"Home sweet home," Sam said.

"Yup," Michael agreed.

They took off their shoes and placed them on the shoe rack. Sam led the way down the hall, their feet slapping against the tiled floor. They passed the bathroom door on the right. Further down, they passed the door to the living room on the right and stairs leading up to the second floor on the left. They arrived at the kitchen at the end of the hall.

They entered the kitchen. The refrigerator hummed in the background. The kitchen was divided in half by a long counter that almost stretched the entire length of the kitchen, ending near the entrance where there was an opening to the right that connected the two areas. The right half of the kitchen was the dining area that had a table with a chair on both ends and a sliding door that led to the backyard. The left half was the kitchen. The pantry door was to the left of the entrance, and the refrigerator sat in an alcove next to the pantry. At the far side, the counter turned to the left, where the sink was. The dishwasher sat below and right of the sink. To the left of the sink was the stove, with the oven below and microwave above. The counter picked back up to the left of the stove before ending at the wall, the width of a cabinet. Around all this, the cabinets lined the entire far wall of the kitchen area.

Sam set down the watermelon on the counter with a heavy thud. "I'll slice some watermelon for both of us. How many slices do you want?"

Michael thought for a moment. "I'll have five."

"I'll also have five." Sam went over to the cabinet above the sink and grabbed a cutting board and a knife.

Michael grabbed two plates and set them on the counter to the left of the cutting board. "I'm going to the restroom."

"Alright," Sam replied as he began slicing the watermelon.

Michael hurried down the hall, followed a moment later by the click of the door shutting. Sam stood at the counter, slicing away at the watermelon. The crisp, rhythmic sound of the knife moving back and forth through the watermelon echoed throughout the house. Sam piled five slices on one of the plates before proceeding to slice five more.

Michael returned to the kitchen. "Is it ready?"

"Yeah, almost done with the second plate."

Michael made his way through the opening into the dining area. He pulled out a chair and sat at the end of the table parallel to the opening.

Sam carried the two plates to the table. "Bon appétit," Sam grinned, placing a plate in front of Michael.

"Thanks," Michael replied.

Sam sat across from Michael. "Our first slice." Sam took a slice from his plate.

"Let's find out," Michael said, bringing a slice to his mouth.

He opened his mouth and took a bite. A wide smile split his face, despite his effort to suppress it. The cool water and the sweet, overwhelming taste blended together perfectly. A wave of pure joy flooded his whole body. Still smiling like a jack-o'-lantern, Michael reached for another slice.

Sam grinned as he took his first bite. He chewed slowly, his eyes widening. Water surrounded him, and Sam floated in the cool water. He began laughing as he paddled his arms through the water, creating little splashes.

Michael stared at Sam across the table, who was flailing his arms around in the air. Sam's laughter cut through the silence, brightening the room like no light could. Michael fought the laughter bubbling up in his chest, trying to force it back down. The rapid, high-pitched guffaw was too contagious, and Michael's body shook violently. Like a dam breaking, Michael erupted into fierce laughter, the laughter seizing total control of his body.

Their laughter merged together, vibrating the house with each laugh. Sam's arms were a whirlwind as he furiously windmilled his arms through the air, driving the energy on. Gradually, the laughter died down. Michael tried to catch his breath, clutching his stomach. Sam dropped his tired arms, his hands thudding against the table.

"Wow, that felt incredibly vivid," Sam said, grabbing another slice.

"What were you even doing?"

Sam took a bite of the watermelon. "I guess it tasted so good that my tastebuds were overwhelmed, and my brain went into overdrive mode, converting the overflowing euphoria into a vivid swimming experience."

Michael laughed. "My first bite was unbelievable, but not over-the-top like yours."

Michael ate quietly, immersed in his thoughts, while Sam ate freely, the sound filling the kitchen as if a whole crowd was eating.

Sam breathed out a contented sigh as he finished his second slice. He leaned back against his chair. "Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're brave."

Michael stopped in mid-bite. "Why?"

"When we were in the car, you trusted me. You opened up to me about how you're afraid and want to be confident like the people you've seen around you." Sam took a deep breath. "You wouldn't just confide in anyone, but you chose to be vulnerable with me. That was honestly very brave of you, Michael."

Michael thought about what Sam said. "Thanks, Sam. You're brave as well. After I opened up about my struggle, you tried to change the subject at first like you've always done. But then, you chose to face the situation, rather than running away from it. To me, that's true bravery."

"I'm not brave," Sam said quietly, lowering his head. "I prefer light topics and socializing. It feels... safer, and I don't have to worry about the consequences of messing up. But when it comes to deep topics, that's where I feel afraid of saying the wrong thing. I feel like the consequences would be catastrophic, scarring me for life by the very memory of the aftermath—whether it led to the end of a friendship, offending someone important, or suddenly getting kicked out and blocked from my family's lives—it's... terrifying."

"I'm the opposite. Socializing is nerve-racking because I have to think of what to say quickly. Sure, the topics may be light, but I have to be quick on my feet. It feels like a performance, where how I act and say something determines the kind of impression I make on others. On the other hand, deep conversations are where I feel most comfortable. I can be honest and genuine, instead of worrying about how I come across, since it's more opinion-based, rather than saying what others want to hear."

The room fell quiet, except for the humming of the refrigerator. After a while, Sam lifted his head. "I guess... we're both brave in our own way," Sam chuckled.

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "We both have areas where we're strong and areas we struggle with, and that's ok. We don't need to be perfect at everything. Build on what we're already good at, while doing the best we can in moments where we struggle."

"Exactly. We know where we struggle, and the strength to acknowledge them makes us stronger. We will fail and we will succeed—understanding that is important."

Michael smiled. "Well said."

They returned to eating the rest of their watermelon slices.