The Southampton streets were busy.

As usual.

Val hated it, especially when he was in a rush almost every Monday morning. He was running late for school. Again.

"Come on you bloody stoplight!" He screamed resisting the urge to get off his bike and kick it. He looked down into the basket of his bike, "This is your fault." He accused the fluffy white ball of feline cuteness he'd named Symon.

The cat looked up at him and he'd swear he saw it raise an eyebrow, or an eyelid because cats don't have eyebrows. Right?

"If you had just helped me find my keys like you you usually do we would have been faster." He said pedaling off just as the light turned green.

It might sound crazy but he never felt weird about talking to his cat. Of course Symon never spoke back, that would just be crazy, but Val never felt ignored either. He had picked up Symon when he was eight years old. He was a little kid who had just ran away from his bullies, and Symon was an injured cat in an alleyway. They bonded almost instantly. Imagine his mum's reaction when he walked home proclaiming the cat nodded at something he said. As a doctor she assumed he took way too many hits to the head and almost pressed at charges at the other childrens' parents.

Val smiled at the memory and looked back down at Symon snuggled up in his basket. Eight years had passed since then and now they were inseparable. Mainly because Symon was really no ordinary cat; sure, he was lazy, feisty and, as some would say, a real bitch, but he was smart.

Val heard a quiet hiss, "Sorry your highness but I'm late for school, you wanker."

He heard another hiss of protest at his rough driving but he ignored it. This cat was going to be the death of him.

After about ten minutes of partially one-sided argument with his cat, Val got to the school. A new term a new hell at Patriarch Academy. He secured his bike to the rack and adjusted his uniform. He wasn't some fancy rich kid like ninety percent of the population but he was not going to give them reason to treat him like an outcast.

Honestly he wondered why his parents didn't send him to some average private school. He also wondered where they got the money when his mum was an underpaid doctor and his dad sold antique junk.

He had asked once and at almost the same time they said 'savings.'

He shook his head. Time for school Val. He turned to Symon, "Go do what ever you do but be back by three or I'm leaving you." He said sternly but Symon looked like he couldn't care less. He hopped out of the basket, landing with complete grace and strutted down the street towards an alley.

He had no idea what that cat did on days like this but he wasn't worried, Symon always came back.

He decided to worry about himself, he sighed then took in a deep breath before marching into school.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

***

"So how's our little Sy doing?"

Val turned to who asked the question. Katie Chesler, the first girl to talk to him when he first arrived at this posh shit hole. She was also Symon's biggest fan. "I told you, I never know what he does when I'm in school, he just doesn't want to stay home."

"Then maybe you should follow him." This suggestion was from Symon's other fan, Bridget Shaw.

Most of his friends in the past eight years were girls, mainly because they started out wanting to touch Symon then later on they got to know him for his personality and not just his cat.

Bridget took her usual seat which was behind him, Katie was to his left.

"Follow my cat and miss out on school,sounds fun but if my mum found out she'd skin me alive."

"Just a suggestion, that cat of yours is hella wierd." She said before slipping on here headphones.

"'Hella' isn't proper language." Katie corrected.

"Oh sorry m'lady, you want some tea with that apology?" Bridget asked with an exaggerated British accent.

Val turned away, well aware of the argument that was about to ensue. In doing so he caught sight of the most gorgeous beings in the classroom.

The Lovejoy twins, Alexius and Audrey.

He had managed to talk to Audrey now and again to ask for help and she was nice enough. But Alex was a different case.

Val was nervous that he'd stare at the other boy for too long and out himself before he could get a sentence out. The sight of the Lovejoys was enough to make his heart skip a beat. Both of them looked so perfect.

"Staring at Audrey again?" Katie whispered.

He flinched. He hadn't exactly told anyone of he being a bit bisexual. Blushing hard he deflected the question, "Where's Mr Garon?"

"His wife gave birth like yesterday so like no Chemistry, and no time for a sub." Bridget filled in.

"Oh." He got out his note book and pretended to study while continuing his creepy habit of staring at the twins who were chatting at the other end of the class.

He was so carried away he wasn't quick enough to avert his gaze when Alex looked his way. He smiled awkwardly and looked back down at his notebook.

The first time they make eye contact and he acted like stalker. Real smooth Cullen, smooth.

"He looked at me, but what do I do? I look away like some awkward freak. I'm hopeless." Val said on the ride home that afternoon. Symon was in the basket listening like always. He looked up and Val could swear the cats face said, 'yeah you are.'

"And I'm sure you have a very successful love life, cat."

Symon flicked his tail to wave off his statement.

"Jerk."

Home was a welcome sight. All Val wanted to do was walk up to his room and crash onto his bed, but first he had to get past his dad. He quietly opened the back door to the store, walked his bike in and proceeded towards the stairs.

"Val, son, welcome back, takeout the trash before you head on up."

He groaned and spun around to face his dad, Ezra Cullen, otherwise known as the owner of Antiquettes. "How did you know?"

"Sy's out on the counter."

"That snitch." Val scowled taking the two trash bags by the stairs.

"You forgot to lock the door when you came in. Always lock the doors. That's the most important rule in this house."

"Right. I'm sorry okay?"

"You should be. Now take care of the trash, go upstairs freshen up and come back down. Your pop needs some help."

So much for his afternoon nap.