Hate to Love You [Elvis]

Chapter 6 - I HATE ELVIS

Thankfully, when I got back to the supply room, everyone was completely oblivious to me insulting and hurting the most famous young man in the country. He was actually about to cry because of what I said to him. I had made people cry before, so it wasn't new to me to see something like that. My chest still pricked, though, but because someone could catch wind of this, and I would be out of a job. Also, I knew I did something wrong. It didn't feel good.

I wheeled my cart next to the other carts in the supply room. Nay wasn't around since she had an earlier shift than me. The women and girls in the room, mostly the girls, were all a chatter about Elvis. If they knew that I hurt his feelings, they would hate me more than they already did.

"Just don't worry about it until someone actually says something," I muttered to myself as I put away the cleaners and threw dirty towels in a massive hamper. "Hopefully I'll never have to worry about it."

After I put the rest of my supplies away and changed into my white blouse and gray trousers I wore to work, I headed home. Once I came into our living room void of my parents since they went to bed around nine, I heard the phone ring. I gasped and dove onto the sofa and took the black phone off of its receiver from the end table. I didn't want my parents waking up since there was a phone in their room, my room and the living room.

"Hello? Paul residence."

"Sarah, hey. Sorry to call so late."

It was Nay. I let out a sigh as I sat up in the sofa. "Hey, Nay. It's fine. I literally just walked through the door after getting off of work. Any earlier, and you would have woken my parents up."

"I'm sorry. I tried to gauge when you would be home."

"You got it right on. Hey, how about I go to my room, and we can talk in there?"

"Okay."

I hung up and went into my room and turned on the light. I sat on my bed and called Nay back. After knowing her for years, I knew her phone number by heart.

"Hey," I said to her. "So, what's up?"

"Can't I call my best friend for no reason?"

"There's always a reason. Let me guess... you want to know if I ran into Elvis again. Right?" She paused for a moment. That gave me my answer. "Thought so."

"So?" she prodded. "Did you?"

"Well... yes, I did."

She squealed. "Ahh! Tell me what happened!"

I pressed my lips together. She was my best friend, so knowing that I would cause her to be angry with me because of what I did didn't sit well with me. It was my own fault, though. "Okay. So... Mrs. Brunster asked me to take over duties for one of the men in charge of Elvis's suite since that man got sick, so I had to take over his duties."

She gasped into the phone. "You mean you cleaned Elvis's suite today?!"

"Yes, two different times. The guy is really neat."

"That doesn't surprise me. So? What happened next?"

 "The first time I went in, he wasn't around, but the second time... Gosh, he was supposed to be back later, and of course, the couple minutes that I was in the room, he had to come in."

"Oh..." she whined. "I should really stick to you like glue. You're an Elvis magnet."

"And I wish I wasn't. Nay..."

I fiddled with the seafoam green swirly phone cord, the same color as my car, apprehensive. Nay demanded, "What? What happened? What did you guys talk about?"