He rubbed the skin of his left hand forefinger and middle finger together. The friction of the action normally would have hurt, but calluses had long since formed. His legs bounced up and down at different paces, an action born out of the same desire to fidget. Unfortunately, he had to dial it down. Moving at his top speed, a speed that would actually relax him rather than build up more tension, was a big no-no in his current setting.

With nowhere else to really go after coming from the future, Bart Allen ended up taking residence with his current-day grandparents, Barry and Iris. Were the two of them happy to suddenly have a teenaged grandson sprung on them out of the blue? Hard to say. While they did welcome the time traveler into their home, it couldn't have been easy on the couple considering they were now expecting Bart's father-and-aunt-to-be. But Bart had taken the spare room they offered to him happily, putting himself primarily under Barry's guardianship. At first, the young speedster thought this meant he would get to spend all day every day just running around and training under the Flash, his grandfather's "supersona", if you would. Unfortunately, thing's had the habit of not exactly working out as planned.

Bart had come to the past in February, and at the time he was involved with the Reach incident until late June. It was done and over with by the time "summer vacation" rolled around, a concept that was completely foreign to the time he wa from. When September rolled around, got pushed into the whirlwind realization that he had to start going to school.

That brings him to his current issue. The thirteen year old was crammed into a desk that felt way too small, in a classroom with twenty-some other kids his age, at Central City Junior High. It was only the third day of the school year, and he was already counting down to the last day of the semester. How could anyone possibly expect him to sit still for a whole 6.59 hours every day? Well, besides the five minutes to switch between classes, a forty-five minute lunch, and one class period of gym. Still, it was just so long.

He looked down at the handout his history teacher passed around at the beginning of third period. Bart considered himself a bit of a history buff where he came from. But he came from 2056. His "history" was this time's current events. While they hadn't actually gotten started on any material yet, being the third day of class and all, this teacher just loved handing out review packets of stuff that everyone apparently should have learned in the previous year. Bart could tell you one thing at least, he most certainly did not learn anything about the War of 1812 last year. Since he couldn't answer a single question on the packet, he wrote a quick note on the back of his hand to read about it later before starting to doodle in the margins of the paper. He mostly just drew out the insignias of different heros. Among the many different sized lightning bolts were various bats, S's, and lanterns, as well as his own personal, and apparently abstract, take on Nightwing's blue bird thing. He was halfway through an attempt at drawing Wonder Woman's symbol - drawing two W's seriously should not be this hard - when a shadow appeared over top of his desk.

"Ahem." Bart looked up to see his teacher looming over him. The old man looked at the lack of answers on the boy's paper, and his amazing artistry skills. "Not even going to make an attempt?"

"Uh… We didn't learn about this in my old school?" It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Ah yes. You are a new student, aren't you?" The man seemed to take a minute to think. "Alright then, write something down about an event that you learned about in your old school."

Bart scratched the back of his head. The year was 2016 right? What happened before 2016? What happened long enough before 2016 that it was worth calling 'history'? What did he remember that wasn't about solely about super heros? He ended up jotting down something he vaguely remembered about a different war people from 2056 often compared the mess with the Reach to. He really didn't know any details other than something about Vietnam and a lot of people dying, but he figured war is war no matter what time it happened in.

Thankfully, he didn't have to write too much before the bell rang loud and clear. Bart only wished he could have been faster in packing up his backpack and leaving for his next class. He definitely could have been, but he had to keep his super speed under control here and work at the same pace as the other kids around him. Being slow was almost painful.

The rest of the day when by almost just as horribly. Lectures about things he only barely understood, being expected to just sit in a desk. God did it suck. He didn't know too many of the other kids here yet either, so he didn't even get the chance to releave some of the stress through social interaction. By the time his last class rolled around, he was ready to explode. His legs bounced at a speed that was likely too fast for a normal human, but it was just slow enough that he doubted anyone would suspect him of anything. He needed to run. Even if it was just in circles. Bart started tapping the eraser of his pencil against the surface of his desk. As he became more and more frustrated, the tapping got faster and harder until-

"Bart!" The boy looked up to see his Algebra teacher, arms crossed and lips pursed, staring him down. All of his classmates were also turning their head to look at the guy who disrupted class. "Do you absolutely need to be doing that right now?"

"No Miss…." Wait what was her name again?

"Then stop with that sound and pay attention."

He ducked his head down into the collar of his shirt. That was embarrassing. He turned his eyes down onto his notebook, hoping that if he didn't look around the classroom, then his classmates would stop staring at him. It wasn't that hard to along with the equations being written on the board. The problem stemmed more-so from that fact that he didn't want to. The clock on the wall said that there were only ten minutes left, but at the same time, there were ten minutes left… Ten… Long… Minutes…

He solved the practice problem faster than he probably should have, especially after looking around and seeing that the rest of his class was still working on it. Not his fault his brain worked just as fast as his legs. So, he spent the rest of class retracing the lines of his division signs and numbers. Erasing and redrawing his equal signs until the lines were perfectly straight and parallel. He wrote out calculations that he had done in his head within the margins of his lined paper. Some more doodles appeared around his work as well. Anything to just pass the time while looking like he was still working.

When the final bell rang, the young speedster couldn't have snapped to his feet fast enough. He shoved his notebook into the large pocket of his backpack, which was growing more disorganized by the second. But before he could make like a banana and split out of the classroom, he heard his name getting called.

"Bart Allen." The teacher Miss… - God he really needed to look up her name - called him over. He didn't even try to hide the tired frustration in his groan as he walked up to her desk. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything." The woman when through a pile of papers on her desk until she found what she was looking for. It was a packet of a few papers, stapled together at the corner. She handed them to him. "It's just some papers for you since you're new to the school."

"Ok. Thanks." Bart took them, flipping through the pages and feigning interest in them.

"Also, I'm supposed to warn you that the principle is going to call you home, likely tonight." When the teacher saw the boy's cocked eyebrow, she continued. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble or anything. He just likes meeting with the families of new students. He'll probably just ask if your parents can come in a talk about a few things."

"I don't live with my parents." The teen deadpanned.

"Oh... Well, your guardians then."

"Um. Ok then. Sounds crash I guess." Bart swung his backpack around to sling on one shoulder as he shoved the packet into it as well. "Can I go now then?"

The teacher just waved him off, and with that, Bart was out the door. He trotted through the halls of the school until, eventually pushing past the masses of random students who were for some reason or another just lingering around. He wanted to just sprint, go full speed and book it out of there. Instead, he held back, waiting until he was outside of the building and around the corner. After making sure that no one else was around to see him, he ran.

Street signs and building blurred as his legs propelled him forward. Man did he need the stretch? Since there wasn't really a long way home when you could go 2942 times the speed of sound, Bart decided to take some time to expel some much needed energy. He stuck to side roads and alleys, remembering what he was told about being seen using his powers. The boy covered as much ground as possible, while still making it back to the Allen household in fifteen minutes.

"I'm home!" He ran straight for the kitchen, immediately grabbing some snacks and downing what was likely half a gallon of water.

"Welcome back." Iris, the only other one home right now, called down from her office space upstairs. Footsteps were audible working their way across creaking floorboards and down the stairs. "How was school today?"

"Oh man I'm totally moded." The teen slumped onto the couch in the living room. "I don't understand how everyone does this every single day for their entire lives."

The woman laughed. "You'll get used to it."

"Oh." The teen sped to his backpack, pulling out the packet given to him by his teacher. "I was told to give this to you and grandpa-Barry. Something about you guys meeting with the principle since I'm a new student."

"You think they would have done this kind of thing before you started."

"Can I go hang out with the League today?" Bart had learned very quickly to ask for permission before doing something. Once he ran off to Texas one morning to hang out with Jaime, without telling Grandma-Iris of course, and even though he was back before the sun went down, the wrath unleashed on him was ridiculous. It wasn't that vicious, yell-y, scream-y wrath that some might think of. It was that "I'm disappointed in you" kind that's just so much worse.

"As long as you're back by dinner." The woman was intently reading the handout that Bart had given her.

"Crash!" In a whirlwind, he changed into his super suit, his new rendition of Kid Flash, and sprinted out the front door.

The Watch Tower was definitely the best replacement for a treehouse that a guy could ask for. By the time he phazed up there through one of the many secret passageways located in each town, many of the younger members were starting to gather as well. "Younger", however, was a bit of a relative term at this point, covering anyone between the ages of six and twenty-five. Yes, that put Bart down at the bottom of the list, but technically, he wouldn't even be legally born for another twenty-seven years. Besides, Connor was at the very bottom. So he wasn't dead last. Since a lot of members went to different schools at different grade-levels across the United States, everyone was on a different schedule now. While the Watch Tower had been hang-out central over the summer, now a lot of members only came by once they were finished classes and homework.

Bart hung around, chatting with whoever he came across. In the back of his mind, he was hoping for a mission to go on, although Artemis wasn't here as Tigress yet, so the likelyhood of him going out on a mission until she arrived was slim unless he was really needed. The curse of being a member of a pair. That's not to say he only ever worked with her. But sometimes he just felt a little pang of guilt if he didn't.

"Now Entering: Designation B-2-2. Blue Beetle."

The young speedster couldn't help but perk up when he heard that his buddy had come on board. He sped through the tower to the Zeta-tube entrance. He immediately saw the other guy, dressed in full black and blue. "Yo! How's it hanging!" He held up a hand, getting a quick high-five from the older teen.

"Crash? I guess." Smile's always looked a little odd on the masked face, the white of Jaime's teeth contrasting so heavily with the deep navy. "You know I've been in school all day."

The thirteen year old groaned. "Geez don't remind me. Can we all just agree to make the HQ a "school-free" zone or something?"

"You started school?"

It was that simple question that reminded Bart that he hadn't seen the other in almost a week; had he even told the guy that he was going to school at all? "Yeah. It's totally against my mode too."

"Different from what you're used to?"

"I'm not used to anything."

"You mean…" There was a slight look of surprise on Blue Beetle's face, followed by a pause. The boy's face twisted a bit in thought. "No, I'm not going to ask him that. What's wrong with you?" Must be the scarab talking again. "Sorry. So you didn't go to school in your time?"

"You seriously asking if I went to school during the apocalypse?" The brunette scoffed at the idea. "No. We didn't really have anything like that."

"Oh... So, are you liking it so far?"

"Not really." The younger of the two picked at the yellow spandex of his suite. "I don't really know anyone yet, so I don't have friends. And it's hard to care about what the teachers are saying when I'm stuck sitting in such an uncomfortable desk for so long."

Beetle looked like he was going to respond, but stopped with his mouth hanging open just a tad. "Would you stop that? That doesn't matter." He saw the slight confusion on the new Kid Flash's face. "Sorry. He's talking again."

"You good." Green eyes somehow fixated on a piece of lint or dirt that was caught in the elbow of his own suite. Bart just couldn't resist the urge to start picking at it. He tried brushing it off, only to have it smear across the fabric. After a few seconds of scratching at it with his the nail of his thumb, there was no trace of the dirt patch. "Sorry. Got sidetracked there. What were we talking about?"

"School?"

A second loud groan left the younger boy's mouth. "Can we please talk about something else?"