A/N: Thanks to all reviewers. As many of you have expressed, I too have depression, and have been intensely struggling after recovering from my eating disorder. I urge anyone who is locked in the battle to seek help. I am ALWAYS here to talk to! Just send me an e-mail: Musica50@aol.com. The reason I'm writing this story is to both educate others and help come to terms with my own issues. Also, those of you whose friends have eating disorders; get them help. Feel free to e-mail me with questions; I'm more than happy to give advice. We all need to work toward a greater understanding of these issues and the reasons behind them.

Thank you,

Antigone

"…so I'm too big for my category now," Joe told a frowning Vanessa when she'd asked him why he'd only had a sandwich for lunch. "So I have to watch what I eat for awhile."

His girlfriend shook her head. "You men and your sports. If the track coach told me to lose weight I'd spit in his face and quit."

Joe laughed, knowing full well that it was true.

"Well, I want to stay on the team. Besides, losing five or ten pounds won't hurt. It'll give me an edge over the next crooks we chase."

His girlfriend laughed. "Criminals do tend to eat too much, huh? Does your Dad have any cases for you?"

"Not right now. But I'm not worried. I mean, trouble just seems to find us."

"Don't I know it," Vanessa stopped at her locker as the bell signaling the end of lunch sounded. "They oughta have warnings on each of you Hardy's. 'Warning: dating a Hardy will lead to early graying of hair. Long term benefits: extremely high tolerance for terror, concern, and all around anxiety."

"Haha," Joe rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

"Aw, you know I love you," she grinned, playfully brushing his hair off his forehead. He returned the favor, then stopped and pretended to frown.

"What's this? Gray? No…white! What do you know, Van, you'll be bald by your twentieth birthday…"

"Haha," Vanessa mimicked her boyfriend's sarcastic chuckle. "Get a move on, Hardy. You'll be late."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you later, right? Remember, we have a date."

"Do I ever forget?" she smiled. "Take care my big, strong man."

Joe, who had begun to turn and walk off, suddenly froze and spun slowly around.

"Big?" he snapped, "what the hell does that mean?"

Vanessa's eyes widened. "Nothing. I mean…it's a complement. You know, strong."

Joe sighed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, turning to go. Vanessa caught his arm.

"Hey, Joe, are you all right? I really didn't mean anything."

"Yeah. I mean, I'm sorry, Van."

She frowned. "This thing the coach said is really getting to you, isn't it?"

"No. I'm all right, really."

"It's just a few pounds, Joe. Don't worry yourself to death about it."

"I know," he sighed, suddenly tired. The words just didn't register.

Vanessa patted her boyfriend's slouched shoulder. "Just relax, baby. We'll have fun after practice. Mr. Pizza, remember?"

"I remember," he mumbled.

"Well, take care, and I'll see you there."

Joe drew a deep breath and kissed her on the cheek. "Okay."

"If only I'd known," she'd say later. "I should have seen it. I should have known better."

She watched as he walked away.