"We'll leave first," I said in a small voice.
His eyes flashed open, their black depths full of anger and pain. "There wasn't a geographic limit to the treaty, Bella. Our great-grandfathers only agreed to keep the peace because the Cullens swore that they were different, that humans weren't in danger from them. They promised they would never kill or change anyone ever again. If they go back on their word, the treaty is meaningless, and they are no different than any other vampires. Once that's established, when we find them again -"
"But, Jake, didn't you break the treaty already?" I asked, grasping at straws. "Wasn't part of it that you not tell people about the vampires? And you told me. So isn't the treaty sort of moot, anyhow?"
Jacob didn't like the reminder; the pain in his eyes hardened into animosity. "Yeah, I broke the treaty - back before I believed any of it. And I'm sure they were informed of that." He glared sourly at my forehead, not meeting my shamed gaze. "But it's not like that gives them a freebie or anything. There's no fault for a fault. They have only one option if they object to what I did. The same option we'll have when they break the treaty: to attack. To start the war."
He made it sound so inevitable. I shuddered.
"Jake, it doesn't have to be that way."
His teeth ground together. "It is that way."
The silence after his declaration felt very loud.
"Will you never forgive me, Jacob?" I whispered. As soon as I said the words, I wished I hadn't. I didn't want to hear his answer.
"You won't be Bella anymore," he told me. "My friend won't exist. There'll be no one to forgive."
"That sounds like a no," I whispered.
We faced each other for an endless moment.
"Is this goodbye then, Jake?"
He blinked rapidly, his fierce expression melting in surprise. "Why? We still have a few years. Can't we be friends until we're out of time?"
"Years? No, Jake, not years." I shook my head, and laughed once without humor. "Weeks is more accurate."
I was not expecting his reaction.
He was suddenly on his feet, and there was a loud pop as the soda can exploded in his hand. Soda flew everywhere, soaking me, like it was spraying from a hose.
"Jake!" I started to complain, but I fell silent when I realized that his whole body was quivering with anger. He glared at me wildly, a growling sound building in his chest.
I froze in place, too shocked to remember how to move.
The shaking rolled through him, getting faster, until it looked like he was vibrating. His shape blurred. . . .
And then Jacob gritted his teeth together, and the growling stopped. He squeezed his eyes tight in concentration; the quivering slowed until only his hands were shaking.
"Weeks," Jacob said in a flat monotone.
I couldn't respond; I was still frozen.
He opened his eyes. They were beyond fury now.
"He's going to change you into a filthy bloodsucker in just a few weeks!" Jacob hissed through his teeth.
Too stunned to take offense at his words, I just nodded mutely.
His face turned green under the russet skin.
"Of course, Jake," I whispered after a long minute of silence. "He's seventeen, Jacob. And I get closer to nineteen every day. Besides, what's the point in waiting? He's all I want. What else can I do?"
I'd meant that as a rhetorical question.
His words cracked like snaps of a whip. "Anything. Anything else. You'd be better off dead. I'd rather you were."
I recoiled like he'd slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had.
And then, as the pain shot through me, my own temper burst into flame.
"Maybe you'll get lucky," I said bleakly, lurching to my feet. "Maybe I'll get hit by a truck on my way back."
I grabbed my motorcycle and pushed it out into the rain. He didn't move as I passed him. As soon as I was on the small, muddy path, I climbed on and kicked the bike to life. The rear tire spit a fountain of mud toward the garage, and I hoped that it hit him.
I got absolutely soaked as I sped across the slick highway toward the Cullens' house. The wind felt like it was freezing the rain against my skin, and my teeth were chattering before I was halfway there.
Motorcycles were too impractical for Washington. I would sell the stupid thing first chance I got.
I walked the bike into the Cullens' cavernous garage and was unsurprised to find Alice waiting for me, perched lightly on the hood of her Porsche. Alice stroked the glossy yellow paint.
"I haven't even had a chance to drive it." She sighed.
"Sorry," I spit through my rattling teeth.
"You look like you could use a hot shower," she said, offhand, as she sprang lightly to her feet.
"Yep."
She pursed her lips, taking in my expression carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Nope."
She nodded in assent, but her eyes were raging with curiosity.
"Do you want to go to Olympia tonight?"
"Not really. Can't I go home?"
She grimaced.
"Never mind, Alice," I said. "I'll stay if it makes things easier for you."
"Thanks," she sighed in relief.
I went to bed early that night, curling up on his sofa again.
It was still dark when I woke. I was groggy, but I knew it wasn't near morning yet. My eyes closed, and I stretched, rolling over. It took me a second before I realized that the movement should have dumped me onto the floor. And that I was much too comfortable.
I rolled back over, trying to see. It was darker than last night - the clouds were too thick for the moon to shine through.