Chapter 11 - Trustworthy

                                    

                                          


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Rosalie POV (Sal)
A delighted tune filled me with warmth as the Cadillac's stereo sound filled the car. Elvis's record A Fool Such As I had taken over the calm chirping of birds and blowing wind in no man's land.
I was resting my knees against the surface over the open glove department. Once again, with tapes covering my lap. This time though, it wasn't a mess. In Elvis's seat, there were three thin but rather long boxes. Inside there were neatly placed Cassettes.  
I had spent maybe an hour or two in his car, just listening to Elvis's records while trying to find some sort of system for his chaos cassette collection. The glove compartment looked a lot better, as there was already a thin box filled with just Elvis's songs in place. The rest of them would neatly slide in next to it. One box after the other, I found their home. As the last cassette slid into the packed box, I calmly closed the glove compartment lid. Keeping one box in my lap, I went through a couple of songs before deciding on one. 
Resting my head, it felt like I was floating timelessly in the oasis of the dark-haired Rock'n roller's round but crisp voice. Disappearing into a land of calm tunes and slight wind from the open car door, I fell asleep. 

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Elvis's POV
The clock had passed 1 PM by the time my groggy ass was ready to come back to life. My mind was at ease, and even if I searched for it, my mind wasn't wrapped around my usual worries. Air filled my lungs without the anxious thought of having to run from one thing to the other. 
I was just being me, and it felt great. All thanks to Sal. A total stranger before this summer, hell, even a few days ago. Getting dressed, I looked closely in the mirror. A slight stubble ensembled across my chin. I could not remember the last time I'd let that happen. I chuckled, shaking my head with a grin. 
My navy blue tee hugged my upper body loosely as I made my way downstairs—Making each step faster than the other, with eyes looking out for Sal. 
«Sal!» I called for her while making my way to the kitchen. Thinking I would find her making another failed sandwich to my standards, I was almost already at the point of laughing. 
Entering the kitchen made me puzzled. She wasn't there. 
Sal's kitchen had very light counters with dark wooden countertops. They surrounded the broad kitchen island we had shared every meal by. Windows cast sunlight diagonally, with tiny dots of dust floating calmy. It was clear Sal had not been in here in a while this morning—if at all.
I wandered aimlessly through the mansion, up and down the stairs, but she just wasn't there. 
To the left of the house, there was a single glass door draped with white iron crosses. Making my eyes squint, I tried to spot her down by the lake. Other than light fog dancing over the still water, there was nothing there. It was like she had disappeared into thin air. It left me worried, no scratch that, more than worried, actually. 
For a second, I caught myself thinking maybe the press had found us, and that she was taken somewhere. Put on question about where I was, as I had run off from the set of Love Me Tender. I knew it was a wild thought, but wilder things had happened to me before—Fans tearing off my pants to get a piece of me. Usually, I was happy to share, with both kisses and autographs. I was nothing without my wonderful fans. I even thought I had gotten addicted, as I wasn't able to control myself around them—probably how I ended up getting to know Sal.
This time though, I didn't want my fame to interfere with Sal. She was no longer just the fierce girl from that insane proposal spectacle. She was... Well, I didn't quite know what I thought of her, but I did know that I liked being around her. She treated me as the annoying sonofabitch I truly was sometimes, not afraid to throw me some word punches. Then other times—she was sweet, funny, and a perfect fit for my mad mind.