A/N: Okie dokie, so before I start this, I'd like to clear something up. "Rocky" from the earlier chapters is Raquel Ervine/Rocket. I guess I have this weird notion that Rocky is short for Raquel or something, and just involuntarily started using it. I apologize if it threw anyone off! So basically, Rocky is Raquel.

This chapter is like, super duper short so I apologize PROFUSELY, once again. The next one may or may not be up by tomorrow. I don't know, but either way, it will be longer.

Thank you for reviewing/following/favoriting!

"Pulchritude."

"Beauty. Okay, um, ennui."

"Er…I know that—that's um, excitement?"

Cassie looked at her friend from over the flashcards. "Actually, it means boredom or listlessness."

"Oh," Babs replied absently, shuffling the words. "Erstwhile."

"At one time," Cassie responded easily. "Fugacious."

"Um, fugacious means…" Babs tapped her fingers zealously on her books as she struggled to remember the definition. "…Excitement?"

"Let's try another. Insouciance."

"…Er, is that…excitement?" The look on Cassie's face told Babs that she was wrong—yet again.

"Fugacious means fleeting, insouciance means nonchalance," Cassie informed. "Harangue."

"Oh, I know this one. It's, um, excitem—?" Babs cut herself off after seeing Cassie's exasperated expression. "You know, we should probably stop now. It's not helping either of us."

"Sure," Cassie said.

The two girls abandoned their books on Babs's bed and strolled outside of her house into the crisp, autumn air. Leaves were rampant and scattered all over the ground. Each step Babs took elicited a loud crunching sound.

"So, where were you last night? I kept on trying to call you, but you didn't pick up," Cassie said.

Babs pursed her lips. "Last night was…eventful to say at the very least."

"What happened?"

"Well, Dick happened. He jumped into a wedding cake, and then I pushed him into a fountain?" Babs turned to see an elated Cassie smirking at her. "But, he basically only talked to me because he pitied me!"

"I don't think so. I mean, if it were me, I probably wouldn't bother jumping into wedding cakes for people I don't like."

Zatanna clutched her hair in distress and paced around her room. Her phone was jammed in between her cheek and her shoulder. The unwelcoming dial tone sounded again in her ears. She felt like it was taunting her.

"Hey, Dick, it's Zatanna. I was just wondering where you were and if you were all right because, you know, you haven't really talked to me in like a couple days." In aggravation, Zatanna clicked the end button and threw the phone on her bed. Falling backwards on the bed, she involuntarily stared at the calendar on her wall. Dick hadn't made any contact with her whatsoever for four days.

Did she do something wrong?

Was Dick okay?

Zatanna was at a loss for ideas and had no idea why Dick was ignoring her—or if he actually was avoiding her.

Her phone rang from the bed, and Zatanna lunged for it. However, she was disappointed. Rocky was calling her. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Well, hello to you too, Miss Amicable," Rocky said in return, noting Zatanna's annoyed tone. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting weird lately," Rocky stated. "And don't even try to deny it—I'm your best friend."

"Rocky—I don't know. Dick has been ignoring me for like four days and I'm worried. I'm not sure if he's deliberately doing it or…" Her voice trailed off.

"Zee, don't even worry about it. Dicky-poo adores you," Rocky said without a second thought. Zatanna bit her lip. She wished that she could just shrug off the matter so nonchalantly like Rocky could.

"I'm not sure," was all Zatanna said in response. There was a moment's silence before the home phone rang. "Rocky, I need to go. Call you later." She hung up, not feeling even the slightest bit satisfied and picked up the home phone.

She was met with the worst news of her life. Zatanna clenched the phone with all her might, scrunched up her face in confusion, and began to cry—all in under ten seconds. Letting out a gut-wrenching sob, Zatanna fell to the ground. All the strength she had held on to that day dissipated. She crumbled under the stress and pressure of everything. Every ounce of composure she might have once felt slipped away, like sand falling from her fingertips. "Your father passed away."