Jacy's Pov:

Jule cried herself basically dry, or so that is how she had said it.

Abruptly, her shoulders stopped shaking and she took her hands away from her face slowly. She smirked at me and I released her and stood. She mirrored myself.

Just before I could ask her if she was truly all right: she said, "Thanks. I'm sorry," she wiped another beautiful diamond from under her eye before it could touch her reddened cheek.

"Don't be," I put my hands out towards her. "I'm just glad that you're happy." I let myself smile.

Her face tilted upwards and she eyed me suspiciously. She fought hard against the rising of her cheeks as she stared at my goofy grin; or so I imagined that would be how it looked.

But before I could see the smile spread effortlessly she turned around and started heading towards her bike. She gripped a hold of the handle bars and swung her left leg around gracefully.

"Thank you very much Jacy, but I've better be going," she said, not even looking at my face. Her concentration was straight ahead, as she stared at nothing. Her hand curled forward around the right handlebar and she tried to pull it backward so she could go in reverse I imagined.

But as her hand turned her hand further and further backward, the bike just sat still.

"Come on," I heard her mutter, frustrated.

I swear she sat there for ten minutes trying to get her motorcycle to move. I could not stop watching her, kind of amused with all her expressive facial expressions.

Out of nowhere, though, she stopped trying. She tugged the key out and grunted as she shoved it in her jacket pocket.

Just then I took in what she was wearing. She must have came from money; it all looked designer. After years of staring at my aunt's and sister's clothing I had gotten to know designer from the knock-offs. Her jacket was black and clearly a motorcycle jacket. It complimented her very well. She also had some black, boot-cut jeans that were tucked in to ankle boots.

Without thinking, I shouted out, "Hey, are those boots Versailles?" Aunt Alice always wore Versailles shoes, and as she tried to make Elle wear them, she refused.

She scrunched her eyebrows together and swung one leg over the bike so she was facing me. She shrugged, "Actually. I'm not sure. I just got these from a friend..."

Must be some nice friend. I can't remember Alice ever purchasing a pair of Versailles shoes that were under three hundred dollars.

Jule got off of her bike and started circling it, examining it over for possible problems. Once she was on the other side of the bike; something caught her eye and she dropped to her knees.

I took five steps towards her so I could lean forward and see her as she dug her hands in to the side.

"Ugh!" She groaned. "The transition's dead!"

Whatever a transition was, it was the first time I heard of such a thing. "What's that mean?" I asked her, curiously.

She stood up, staring down the bike, "It means I will have to buy a new one. Great! The tranny costs more than this stupid bike is worth." She kicked it powerfully.

"How much?" I asked her, trying not to be too eager and just pull some cash out of my duffel bag.

"I'm not actually sure. This has only happened one other time and Michael paid for it all," she blew her sideways bangs up.

I cocked my head, "Who's Michael? Your brother?"

She stifled out a laugh. "No, Michael is just a, uh, friend." She seemed wary, as she broke eye contact with me. I had some sort of feeling that Michael wasn't just a friend. A boyfriend, perhaps.

I argued with myself for a minute, the question of "Is he your boyfriend?" just kept on wanting to jump out of my mouth. So, instead I tried a different approach to getting her to tell me.

"Well, since he's a friend, and he did it before, he wouldn't mind paying for it again," I let in, trying to maybe get some information on this guy.

She snorted. "No, Michael wouldn't do that anymore." She grabbed the bike handle bars and started backing it up. "But, I've really ought to be heading home." She said, glancing at me quickly, then down to mutter, "It's going to be a long trip." But I had heard her anyways.

I walked fast after her. "Do you need me to walk you home?" I was sort of worried that she would leave.

She looked back at me with a smile, "I'm going way out. I don't think it would be the sort of adventure for such a young one."

I ran around her and put my foot under the wheel so she couldn't move further. "Young one? I bet I'm older than you," I said playfully, though I knew she was at least fourteen years older than I since I had just turned two though I looked seventeen.

She didn't look annoyed in the slightest; actually, almost intrigued.

She cocked an eyebrow. "Nineteen," she said proudly. "Just turned."

I gaped a little at that, "But, you're short!" I accused. There was no way she could be older than seventeen.

She did not look insulted, "I may be. But at least I have age on my side," she smiled. "How about you, Mr. Fashion?"

I blushed, realizing she was referring to when I had identified her shoes. "Well, you try being a boy and being constantly surrounded by girls and their fashion and hair products and nail polish," I kidded.

In actuality, though, I had just as many boys in my house as girls. "And I'm seventeen."

After saying that, my heart dropped due to the fact I had just lied to this beautiful girl... no, woman.

Chayton's POV:

I raced back to the house, ready to see my Elle again. I missed her too much, and my body ached for her little hands and her petite figure and her polite voice and her life-changing smile.

But, as I came out of the woods and into the clearing around the house, I saw what I feared. Edward standing on the porch, his arms crossed and he glare deadly.

I really just wanted to push him out of my way and find Elle, but I decided to try the polite approach instead of acting on an impulse. So, I fast walked to him instead of running.

"Good afternoon, Edward," I bowed my head very slightly.

He didn't show any relief to my gentleness. His entire body was still hard as stone. He sighed deeply, and spoke, "Just because Jacob is away, doesn't mean she's suddenly available for your sexual pleasure."

"What?" I whispered, my voice almost hissing, "You think I-I assaulted her?" My voice got full of anger.

"Maybe not assault," he said, putting his hands out in front of him for defense, "But you did take advantage of her. She's too young to know what real love is. Jacob waited six years for Nessie, very patiently. Can you not wait until Elle is fully grown?" He asked, his voice now sounding hoarse from his tense stance.

"Maybe you've got to stop comparing Elle to Nessie. And the same with Jake and I. Elle is ready for a relationship! If she didn't want me until she was older, do you think I would not obey her? Of course I would! I would do anything for her!" I yelled, how could he not already know this?

"Look, I'm not going to say anymore. I'm going to tell you exactly what we have decided. I will let you in to visit Elle for just a little bit."

"We?" I asked, "Don't you have to consent Elle's real parents to figure this out?"

"Please," he put his hand out and then crossed his arms, "Just let me finish. I called Nessie and Jacob, and they're taking a flight back tonight. They came up with this idea, actually."

My face fell, "What's the idea?"

"Well, as you know, Carlisle predicted it would take Elle and Jacy three years to grow. Except for, now, Jacy is done growing. But, anyways, Jacob and Nessie agreed on you waiting until she is fully grown."

I hadn't quite let it sink in yet, "But she just turned two." I stared at the ground.

That wasn't that bad, I could wait a year. I knew I could.

"And until then, they want you stay away."

I looked at him, furiously, "They can't do that. It's impossible to stay away from Elle that long."

"Well, you're going to have to. Well, maybe when they get back, you can talk to them. But for right now, I'm sticking to what they said." He stepped off to the side and held open the door for me. "You have twenty minutes."

I was about to argue with him, but I couldn't stand to be away from Elle a moment longer.