"So Mr. Ateara went straight to the other elders," Jacob went on. "They were the only ones left who still knew, who remembered. Mr. Ateara, Billy, and Harry had actually seen their grandfathers make the change.
When Old Quil told them, they met with Sam secretly and explained. "It was easier when he understood - when he wasn't alone anymore. They knew he wouldn't be the only
one affected by the Cullens' return" - he pronounced the name with unconscious bitterness - "but no one else was old enough. So Sam waited for the rest of us to join him. . . ."
"The Cullens had no idea," I said in a whisper. "They didn't think that werewolves still existed here. They didn't know that coming here would change you."
"It doesn't change the fact that it did."
"Remind me not to get on your bad side."
"You think I should be as forgiving as you are? We can't all be saints and martyrs."
"Grow up, Jacob."
"I wish I could," he murmured quietly.
I stared at him, trying to make sense of his response. "What?"
Jacob chuckled. "One of those many strange things I mentioned."
"You . . . can't . . . grow up?" I said blankly. "You're what? Not . . . aging? Is that a joke?"
"Nope." He popped his lips on the P.
I felt blood flood my face. Tears - tears of rage - filled my eyes. My teeth mashed together with an audible grinding sound.
"Bella? What did I say?"
I was on my feet again, my hands balled up into fists, my whole frame shaking.
"You. Are. Not. Aging," I growled through my teeth.
Jacob tugged my arm gently, trying to make me sit. "None of us are. What's wrong with you?"
"Am I the only one who has to get old? I get older every stinking day!" I nearly shrieked, throwing my hands in the air. Some little part of me recognized that I was throwing a Charlie-esque fit, but that rational part was greatly overshadowed by the irrational part. "Damn it! What kind of world is this? Where's the justice?"
"Take it easy, Bella."
"Shut up, Jacob. Just shut up! This is so unfair!"
"Did you seriously just stamp your foot? I thought girls only did that on TV."
I growled unimpressively.
"It's not as bad as you seem to think it is. Sit down and I'll explain."
"I'll stand."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay. Whatever you want. But listen, I will get older . . . someday."
"Explain."
He patted the tree. I glowered for a second, but then sat; my temper had burned out as suddenly as it had flared and I'd calmed down enough to realize that I was making a fool of myself.
"When we get enough control to quit . . . ," Jacob said. "When we stop phasing for a solid length of time, we age again. It's not easy." He shook his head, abruptly doubtful. "It's gonna take a really long time to learn that kind of restraint, I think. Even Sam's not there yet. 'Course it doesn't help that there's a huge coven of vampires right down the road. We can't even think about quitting when the tribe needs protectors. But you shouldn't get all bent out of shape about it, anyway, because I'm already older than you, physically at least."
"What are you talking about?"
"Look at me, Bells. Do I look sixteen?"
I glanced up and down his mammoth frame, trying to be unbiased. "Not exactly, I guess."
"Not at all. Because we reach full growth inside of a few months when the werewolf gene gets triggered. It's one hell of a growth spurt." He made a face. "Physically, I'm probably twenty-five or something. So there's no need for you to freak out about being too old for me for at least another seven years."
Twenty-five or something. The idea messed with my head. But I remembered that growth spurt - I remembered watching him shoot up and fill out right before my eyes. I remembered how he would look different from one day to the next. . . . I shook my head, feeling dizzy.
"So, did you want to hear about Sam, or did you want to scream at me some more for things that are out of my control?"
I took a deep breath. "Sorry. Age is a touchy subject for me. That hit a nerve."
Jacob's eyes tightened, and he looked as if he were trying to decide how to word something.
Since I didn't want to talk about the truly touchy stuff - my plans for the future, or treaties that might be broken by said plans, I prompted him. "So once Sam understood what was going on, once he had Billy and Harry and Mr. Ateara, you said it wasn't so hard anymore. And, like you also said, there are the cool parts. . . ." I hesitated briefly. "Why does Sam hate them so much? Why does he wish I would hate them?"
Jacob sighed. "This is the really weird part."
"I'm a pro at weird."
"Yeah, I know." He grinned before he continued. "So, you're right. Sam knew what was going on, and everything was almost okay. In most ways, his life was back to, well, not normal. But better." Then Jacob's expression tightened, like something painful was coming. "Sam couldn't tell Leah. We aren't supposed to tell anyone who doesn't have to know. And it wasn't really safe for him to be around her - but he cheated, just like I did with you. Leah was furious that he wouldn't tell her what was going on - where he'd been, where he went at night, why he was always so exhausted - but they were working it out. They were trying. They really loved each other."
"Did she find out? Is that what happened?"
He shook his head. "No, that wasn't the problem. Her cousin, Emily Young, came down from the Makah reservation to visit her one weekend."
I gasped. "Emily is Leah's cousin?"
"Second cousins. They're close, though. They were like sisters when they were kids."
"That's . . . horrible. How could Sam . . . ?" I trailed off, shaking my head.
"Don't judge him just yet. Did anyone ever tell you . . . Have you ever heard of imprinting?"
"Imprinting?" I repeated the unfamiliar word. "No. What's that mean?"
"It's one of those bizarre things we have to deal with. It doesn't happen to everyone. In fact, it's the rare exception, not the rule. Sam had heard all the stories by then, the stories we all used to think were legends. He'd heard of imprinting, but he never dreamed . . ."