Tristan could never remember a time when he was not best friends with Violet Bastow; they had known each other since kindergarten and had been through puberty together. Violet was like Tristan’s twin sister… they were nearly one person, a package deal, if someone invited Violet to a party it was automatically assumed that Tristan was invited as well and vice versa. Violet was the Robin to his Batman, the 8bit graphics to his Nintendo 64, the Rock to his Roll and the sex appeal to his Freddie Mercury.
He could talk about anything to her, except for one thing…
Closing his eyes in nervousness Tristan tried to focus his attention back to the butter chicken, making sure that the chicken wouldn’t over cook or that the curry flavour wouldn’t burn. But even though he tried to focus on the task at hand, the nerves and spasms of fear plagued his mind. The rational side of him knew that Violet would never get angry, she would never stop being his friend just because of his… preferences, but still his hands became slick with sweat at the very thought of telling Violet what he had kept secret since kindergarten.
Breathing and exhaling slowly, Tristan turned off the stove and moved the pot away from the hot surface; he then proceeded to fill two bowls with rice and layer on the butter chicken before handing Violet her bowl and walking with her to the lounge room.
Quickly, before the silence of nothing became too much, Tristan placed his bowl on the coffee table, carefully placed the DVD into the player and threw himself next to Violet before grabbing his bowl of steaming Butter Chicken and pressing play on the remote.
“What movie is this?” Violet asked as she moved a little closer to Tristan, her brown eyes glued to the television as each of the production companies logos were announced.
“Pan’s Labyrinth, it’s in Spanish so we have to read the subtitles.” Tristan replied quickly, before Violet sighed loudly and rolled her neck back in annoyance.
“Subtitles, why do we always have to watch movies with subtitles?” She groaned loudly just as the movie began to start. But Tristan ignored her and instead focused his attention on the movie trying to keep his thoughts away from anything that resembled having a deep and meaningful conversation with Violet.
But as the movie continued so too did his focus stray from it, until finally Tristan had no idea what was happening in the movie anymore. He felt sick, his heart pounded against his chest, his lungs worked over time to get air into them, his hands became slick with sweat and the world began to spin dizzyingly in front of him. The more he thought about telling Violet what he had kept secret for years, the worse he felt about keeping a secret from her and so it became a vicious cycle until finally Tristan couldn’t take it anymore.
The tears burst out of him like a dam breaking, the water gushed out of him and it felt like it was never going to end. He felt silly for crying, his brain shouting at him to stop acting like a whiny bitch, but the tears just wouldn't relent and they gathered in his hands mixing sweat with tears. Then he felt Violet’s arms hug his shoulders, he could smell the comforting scent of coconut shampoo in her chocolate brown hair and her voice, her sweet sister-like voice.
“Hey, are you ok? What’s wrong? What happened?” She said in a gush, obviously surprised by Tristan’s sudden outburst of emotion.
Taking a few deep breaths, wiping his tears away from his face and looking up at Violet he knew with unbreakable certainty that she would always be his best friend, he knew that Violet would always be there for him and he knew that she loved him just as much as he loved her.
“Vi,” he called her for that was Violet’s nickname, “I’m… umm,” he swallowed a little in nervousness, “gay.” As soon as he said it his body instantly relaxed, his mind no longer fought with him, his heart had calmed down to a nice even pace and the heavy weight on his shoulders was finally lifted.