Auntie Iris used to always tell me that if you had something you wanted in your mind that you needed to go for it, no matter what it was. That sometimes you had to be stubborn and bull headed to get what you wanted in life. She would laugh and rumple my hair until it stuck up even worse then it normally would. Her laughter was what made me always believe her. She was always so confident, I wanted to be like her. I wanted to set my eyes on a goal and go for it, no matter how crazy it was, just like her. That was how she managed to get Barry Allen's attention when I was a kid. She set her mind on winning the CSI's affection and BOOM, next thing I knew I was the best man at her wedding. Which had made me curious as a kid, cause isn't that a role set aside for like, the groom's friends, but whatever, I wasn't complaining.

Uncle Barry used to always tell me that if you worked hard enough that one day everything would just click. He used to tease my auntie when she wasn't in the room, telling me that sometimes being focused and hard willed wasn't enough to get anywhere in life. I think my favorite part about his little speeches was how he would always make me promise not to tell auntie. Like he was afraid of her or something. I know now, or I have a really strong feeling anyway, that he might have been. He was so gentle. Soft spoke at times, and would always make me smile and laugh when life got me down, Uncle Barry had a smile on his face and an outstretched hand. He worked hard, but he made time for auntie. He told me once that this was his moment. That his marriage to auntie, his new friends, and his new family, that we were his moment where everything in his life just clicked. His words hadn't made any sense to me then, I think I might have been like eight or nine at the time, but now when I look back at that moment my chest hurts a little. Uncle Barry was always so open and loving yet hard working and tough, I wanted to be like him too.

Now, I guess I lived up to some of their traits, but I'm not sure if I can actually say that I would make them proud.

At 17* I'm kind of a dork. Okay, I'll admit it, I'm a really big dork. I goof around more then anything and I've been called on multiple occasions the Vein of one of my best friend's existence, which I still haven't decided if that's a good thing or not. I skate by, not really caring enough to achieve more then my scholarship requires. I'm not really popular with the ladies, which is a total surprise to me, and I have a tendency to scare off people with my vast knowledge of the media gained from years of Trivial Pursuit and big science words.

Hey now, don't judge me, science is cool.

Oh the other hand, at 17 I have friends who love me. Friends who, and I don't like bragging but here goes, all needed me at one point or another, and I ran to them as fast as my feet could carry me. If you need a shoulder to cry on, even if I didn't know you, I will be more then willing to listen. I think that's why our little group all seemed to find each other, cause Myth Busters be damned we don't fit together. I might not work as hard as I could, but I keep my grades up and my Track and Field scholarship to Gotham Academy is keeping me running and happy. And I'm not much for bragging, but I won the state championship last year.

But with all of that said, I have a nasty little secret that I'm more then a little ashamed of.

It's what keeps me up at night.

It's what has me missing some of my game nights with one of my best friends.

It's the cause of me staring out into space and ignoring my teachers. But in all fairness I did that before too.

Uncle Barry would tell me that it was just a crush. Auntie Iris would tell me it's just teenaged hormones kicking in for the wrong person.

But I know that this ain't lust or some stupid boyhood crush. This is more then that, more then I even know how to explain. Cause I build myself up until I drop down and the feeling is horrible and amazing and painful and beautiful. And it leaves me reeling and confused. I don't know what to do or how to deal. They don't cover this on the Discovery Chanel! Fuck, it's not even on the Hitler Chanel!**

I've seen girls acting like I've been these past few months in soap operas and chick flicks so I used Lifetime as research, but that didn't help. They suggest one thing, and I won't even go there. Cause just, ew, it'd be different if it was a girl but it wasn't so just ew.*** And I've known this guy since I moved to Gotham for this stupid scholarship with my mom and dad.

I don't want to say nothing and miss my chance.

And I definitely don't want to do something that I'd regret and ruin everything.

I need Auntie Iris here so she can tell me if this is one of those things I should go for no matter what.

I need Uncle Barry here so he can tell me if I should just sit tight until everything just clicks.

Cause honestly, I don't have the slightest clue what to do.

Howdy y'all, this is my newest angry plot bunny, and surprise, it's an AU!~ And it's about Wally!~ AND WHY AM I PLAYING WITH MY BOX CUTTER WHILE WRITING THIS?~

-cheers and flails-

This started out when I was listening to the song Chasing Pavements by Adele. I'm very musically oriented so many of you that take the time to read more from me will realize that I use music a lot as an inspirational source.

PROBLEM this is a split idea. I could put Wally with one of two people here and in all honesty I'm not sure who I wanna stick him with just yet. I may just brainstorm in a dark corner, or if anyone has any suggestions feel free to shoot 'em at me. Oh, and me no telly who I have in mind either. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE AND THANK YOU

*-I know that Wally is like, 15 or 16 in the show, but for my purposes I've bumped him up.

**-The History Chanel's playful pet name, cause come on people, they're been playing way to much Hitler lately. I DON'T WANNA KNOW ABOUT HIS DOG!

**-Before this even starts something, I am not making Wally a homophobe in this, but in my experience with people boys in this situation that have never had homosexual attractions before tend to think them icky.