The Stalker (Elvis Presley Story)

Chapter 5

"Okay, everybody, from the top."

Pacing around the stage like a panther, gray took the dancers through part of the "Hand jive" number,  where the kids at Grease's Rydell high competed in a dance contest.

The stage was crowded and the timing was tricky. Melissa hoped everybody got it right this time. They'd been working on it for an hour and Gray still wasn't satisfied.

Counting the beats in her head, she ran across the stage and grabbed Michael's outstretched hands, then slid between his legs and hopped up again. Facing each other, they went into a fast, furious jitterbug.

On the scaffold high above the stage, a lighting man pulled the filter from one of the spotlights. White light flashed across Melissa's face, bringing back the memory of the night before.

The parked car.

The motionless driver.

The headlights pinning her in a glare.

"Come on, williams!" Michael hissed as Melissa almost missed the step. "Concentrate or we'll be here 'till curtain time."

"Sorry," Melissa whispered. Get a grip she told herself.

As the dance ended, Michael knelt down. Melissa stepped onto his knee and sat on his shoulder, one arm flung above her head. They held the pose, smiles pasted across their faces, their breath coming heavily.

"Better," Gray said. "Let's get it right tonight, too. See you then."

Relieved, the dancers scattered from the stage. It was lunchtime and they were free until six, when they had to return and get ready for the nights performance.

In the dressing room, Melissa peeled out of her leotard and pulled on a pair of shorts and a white t-shirt. Toni was on her way to see a movie and asked her along, but Melissa decided not to go. "I'm starving. She told her. Popcorn won't be enough."

In the drugstore on main Street, Melissa bought a few supplies and a bag of mini candy bars for motel room munching. As she came out of the store and headed down the sidewalk, someone grabbed her shoulder from behind.

Melissa gasped and spun around.

Elvis stood there, smiling at her.

"What's the matter, little one, did I scare you? He asked.

Melissa let out a breath of relief. "Hi, Elvis. I am a little jumpy, I guess."

"What about?"

"It's kind of strange.  But I feel like..."
Melissa hesitated, not wanting to mention jimmy white. ".....like I'm being watched by somebody."

"Guilty," Elvis said quickly. Then he laughed. "Ive been watching you since the first day I saw you."

He laughed again, and his blue eyes sparkled. She found herself smiling back at him. "I didn't notice that," She told him.

"You mean I was too subtle?" Elvis shook his head. "Okay, I'll spell it out." He nodded towards a restaurant and couple of doors down. "I'd like to get to know you, Melissa. How about you have lunch with me?"

Melissa didn't hesitate. If Elvis was Mr. Heartbreaker, like steph said, there was only one way to find out. "Let's eat," She agreed.

Later, after Melissa had plowed through a salad, a turkey sandwich, and a piece of apple pie, Elvis cocked an eyebrow at her empty plates. "Does stage fright kill your appetite or somethin'?" He teased her.

"I did kind of pig out, didn't I?" Melissa admitted, stirring the straw in her soda. "But lunch is the only chance I get. If I stuff myself right before a show, I'll fall asleep in the middle of it."

"So you don't get stage fright?"

"Oh, sure I do," Melissa said. "I'm terrified everytime I go out there." She drank some coke and leaned her elbows on the table.

"Okay, Elvis. I've told you everything about myself, including the time I threw up before my first dance recital. It's your turn now."

"You want the Elvis presley story, huh?"

Elvis closed his eyes. "Let's see. I was born on a rainy night in January. The temperature was..."

Melissa laughed and tossed her wadded up napkin at him. "I don't want to know that much," She said. "Where you from? Do you have any brothers or sisters? How'd you get involved with theater?"

Do you have a girlfriend? She thought but didn't say.

"Memphis. I have one brother but he passed away," Elvis said. "And I volunteered to paint sets for carousel my sophomore year in high school," he told her. "After that I was hooked. I still am. I like backstage work, too, especially lighting and scenery. This is my third summer with this theater company."

"You never wanted to act or dance or anything?"

"Sure, I'd love to someday." He shrugged.

"You're the first nonobsessive theater person I've met, Elvis."

He raised a black eyebrow. "Obsessive?"

"You know what I mean," Melissa told him. "So many of us live and breath acting or dancing. We don't have room in our lives for anything else."

"Well, I really want to work in it, but I guess your right," he agreed "I'm not obsessed with it. I'm interested in other things, too."

"Like what?"

"Oh....mostly music. I like to sing." Elvis cleared his throat and drank some water. "And you," he said, blushing a little. "I'm interested in you, Melissa."

Melissa's heart thumped and she felt a warm rush of pleasure.

Was he acting?

If it was an act, it sure was a good one she thought.

Elvissss Finally!! so how did you think their lunch went? Is Elvis putting on an Act? Hope you enjoyed! And thanks for reading! Xoxo