Ophiuchus

Before

When Matthew came out to Camille, neither expected the words that would come out of the other's mouth. He burst into her room one evening, shut her calculus book and looked her in the eye.

"I need to tell you something, because if I don't tell someone I think I might die."

Camille wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but she listened on nevertheless.

"I'm gay."

She didn't blink. She'd seen in the movies when the protagonist had come out, that their best friend would cry and hold them. And she'd heard from others that when they'd come out, their parents had thrown them out of the house and cut them off. She knew what she wanted to say, but didn't know how to tell him. Words ran through her head, and she tried to find the right ones.

"You're scaring me, please say something!"

"You have a girlfriend." She nearly slapped herself. What an idiotic thing to say.

"I broke up with her."

She nods. Her eyes traced the ground. Matthew sighed and turned away from her.

"Something's wrong with me, isn't there?"

"No!" Camille exclaimed jumping up. She reached for his shoulder.

"No, of course not." Their eyes met.

"It's who you are. You're my brother And I love you and everything about you."

A small smile spread across his face. He looked back at her sympathetically.

"You mean it?"

Camille smiles back. "Every word."

A few nights later, words were exchanged. Glasses broke and doors slammed. It took exactly seven minutes and two words to drive Matthew out of the house for three days.

Their oldest brother Daniel was home for the weekend. The family was having dinner in their usual melancholy silence. Her father was pressing on about Daniel's life at Uni and her mother was on her third glass of wine. Being the youngest, Camille usually didn't say much unless she was spoken to. She sat, pushing food back and forth across her plate, ignoring her growling stomach. Cheer tryouts were in a week and she knew she'd have the spare the calories. Her mother had been urging her to try out ever since she entered secondary school. This was the year Camille had grown sick of her mother's nagging and finally decided to give in.

When Matthew's chair scraped against the floor that was when Camille first felt like hands were wrapping around her throat. The table was silent and Matthew was up and out of his place. Everyone's eyes were on him, except for Camille's. She knew what was happening. She could see he was shaking a bit out of fear; and it was that same fear that was suffocating her.

"What are you doing Matthew?" Their father asked. Matthew gripped at the back of his chair to the point where his knuckles turned white.

"I'm gay."

The words escaped his lips softly, but they were enough to fill his father with rage and his mother with grief.

George clenched his jaw. "Sit down before-"

"I'm gay, and I didn't tell you because I was afraid that you wouldn't accept me for who I am."

"Matthew, love stop it." Regina said. Tears brimmed her eyes.

Camille froze in place and her breath grew shallow. Matthew hadn't sat down and was shaking even harder. Her father was clenching his fists. Both Matthew and George's knuckles were turning white, but for different reasons.

"Mama, Papa. Please say something." Matthew urged, tears streaming his face. Camille felt her stomach knot. Her chest was growing tighter and tighter with each second that passed.

And then.

"I'm still your son!"

George's fists came down hard onto the table. The plates and glasses shook. Both Camille and Daniel had flinched at the sound. George jumped up from the chair and for a moment she saw pure hatred in her father's eyes.

"Get out! Get out of my house!" He shouted. His body shook with rage. Matthew hadn't batted an eye.

It was a swift motion that sent a wine glass sailing through the air and into smithereens on the marble floor. Crystal glass rained all about the room and for a moment- it almost looked beautiful.

At the sound of shattering glass, Matthew threw back his chair and stormed out of the house.

Tears stung at Camille's eyes and she let out a gasp, just as she felt she could finally breathe again. Her gaze drifted over to the front door, but George had taken a hold of her wrist in a forceful grip.

"Don't you dare go after him." he said lowly. She blinked away her tears and sat very still.

Then, George let go of her and resumed eating. "There's no point wasting a whole meal on that boy."

In the end, everyone carried on eating, despite having lost all of their appetites.