The morning Texas air is muggy, the base airport sticky hot. You and Candice stand beside Reggie, ready to see him off.

Candice and Reggie are stood close together, talking quietly while the plane that with take Reggie into Vietnam arrives.

You try to give the siblings their space, arms crossed as you think about how scared you are for the younger boy. In this moment, all of your problems seem so silly, so unimportant.

Reggie could die out there, die alone and scared in some far away jungle. Candice may never see her little brother again.

You hear what sounds like a sob, and turn towards your best friend. She has her head laid on Reggie's shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around his big sister. His eyes are closed, and you can tell he's trying not to cry.

Tears of your own start to form.

You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand, moving forward as the two finally break apart.

You lay a hand on Candice's back as she cries.

"Promise me you'll be smart, okay?" Candice says, and the tone of her voice breaks your heart.

"I promise, Candy. I'm gonna be okay."

Reggie offers his sister a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Candice fumble's around in her bag, pulling out the Saint Christopher metal.

She gestures Reggie to lean down.

"This is a little piece of home you can take with you," she places it over his head, around his neck. "It was daddy's. It'll protect you."

Reggie rolls the pendant between his fingers. He looks up at the both of you with big, scared eyes.

"Thank you."

Candice nods, lip quivering.

A commander calls for the troops to board, and Candice flings herself into Reggie's arms one last time.

"I love you." She sobs. Reggie mumbles it back, sounding all the world like a scared little kid. You feel your chest tighten with sorrow, hand resting on his shoulder.

"You're gonna be okay." You try to reassure him, and Reggie nods as he picks up his duffle bag.

Candice grabs your hand and you give it a squeeze.

Reggie turns to you.

"Take care of her for me, okay?"

You give him a sad smile.

"I will."

He wraps one arm around you, and you don't really care that you can hear the shutter of camera's in the distance, too focused on this young man that could die for no reason.

You try not to cry as he lets go, sending you both a small wave as he walks towards the plane.

You and Candice watch him leave, staying long after the plane has taken off, watching as it disappears into the clouds.

*

*

*

It's hard to comfort a friend in times like this, never really knowing what to say or how to say it. Candice lays in bed, silent as you sit beside her. You stroke her back, doing your best to be there for her.

You realize that you've been so wrapped up in Elvis this last month that you've been neglecting your best friend, the one person whose stood beside you through all of this. You can't help but feel bad.

Candice sits up suddenly, and you make room for her to stand.

"I'm gonna shower." She says dully. You nod, giving her a small smile.

You move to your own bed, sighing as you hear the shower start running in the next room. Bored, you decide to pick up the phone and call Elvis. You have no idea if he's around- Gene or Billy probably taking him out someplace since it's one of his rare free evenings- but you dial his number anyways.

It rings four times before someone picks up.

"Hello?"

You straighten up. The voice that answers is distinctly not Elvis.

It's a female.

"Hello?" She asks again, and you clear your throat.

"Who is this?" You ask.

"Shelia, whose this?"

You bite your tongue.

"This is Elvis's girlfriend, Y/N." You keep your voice firm and even, trying not to jump to conclusions. "Would you put Elvis on the phone?"

"He's out a the moment, I can take a message." Shelia says, tone chipper and bright. You see red. You have no idea who this woman is, why she would be in Elvis's suite, the suite he shares exclusively with you.

"Just let him know I called." You hang up the phone before she can respond.

You've never been the jealous type, but then again, you've never been in a relationship as public as this one. You stand, pacing the floor in front of your bed.

You want to jump to conclusions, rant and rave to Candice about the other woman on the telephone, but you know the older girl is in no state to hear about your petty drama. So, you wipe angry tears from your face, heading to your suitcase. You rifle through it until you find exactly what you're looking for- a black, strapless mini dress.

You put it on, zipping it up the side angrily. If Elvis wants to invite other women to your shared suite, then certainly you can go out and entertain other men.

You stop as you strap on your shoes.

You take a moment to think about Elvis, how sensitive he is, how much something like this might hurt him. You think about your call with him, how understanding he was about the Reggie situation.

Shouldn't you give him that same understanding?

You sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed with your head in your hands.

"God, what am I doing?''

The bathroom door opens.

"You talking to yourself?"

Your head shoots up, Candice standing before you in a pink puffy robe. Her hair is still wet, curls appearing longer against her shoulders. You can tell she has been crying, due to the puffiness of her eyes. She looks you up and down.

"Where are you going dressed like that? I thought we were staying in tonight."

You fall back on the bed with a groan, arms outstretched.

"It's nothing, Candy. I'm just being stupid."

The bed dips beside you.

"C'mon, talk to me."

Craning your neck to look up at her, you raise an eyebrow.

"It's really, really dumb, Candice. I don't wanna weigh you down with my problems."

Candice scoffs.

"Girl, just tell me what's up. Take my mind off of everything, c'mon." She flops down beside you, tucking her hands underneath her cheek. "I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything and I won't think it's stupid."

You smile.

"Okay." You look up at the ceiling, retelling your interaction on the phone.

When you look back at Candice, her eyebrows are raised high and her lips are set in a thin line.

"What the Hell is he doing inviting another girl into his room when he has you?"

This makes you feel a bit better.

"I know!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. "Like, what was she even there for? Do you think she was the maid or something?"

Elvis had routinely asked for maid service in the past, scheduling them for when the two of you were out of the room, but what kind of maid spoke so unprofessionally to guests?

Candice hums in thought.

"Maybe, but then why would she give her name up so willingly?"

Another good point.

You roll onto your stomach.

"Do you think I'm overreacting? I mean, honestly Candy, I don't think I could ever cheat on Elvis." You pick at the seam of the comforter. "I just want him to feel as mortified as I did when that woman answered the phone instead of him."

Candice puts a hand on your shoulder.

"You're not dumb, Y/N. Any woman alive would have the same reaction, I promise you that."

You nod, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"While you look beautiful in this dress, maybe give the guy a chance to explain himself before you go out and give half of base camp a boner the size of Texas."

You burst into laughter, Candice following right along with you. She always knows just what to say.

You lay your head on the bed, looking into her eyes.

"Thanks, Candy."

She smiles at you, a hand coming to stroke your cheek.

"Anytime. You know I've got your back.''

"And I've got yours."

The phone rings out, and both Candice and your eyes widen.

You scramble up the bed, almost falling to the floor as you answer the phone. Candice stifles a laugh from behind you, and you feel her tugging the hem of your dress down.

"Hello?" You hope you don't sound as excited as you feel.

"There's my girl!" Elvis answers. "How's my pretty baby doing?"

You notice his voice is a little off, slurred in a way you haven't heard it before. You look at the clock. Here in Texas it's about midnight, and Vegas is only two hours behind. It's only about ten after ten there. What has Elvis been up to?

"I'm good, Elvis." You tell him, and Candice slaps your calf. You shoot her a look. "But baby, I called earlier and some woman, Shelia, answered the phone."

Elvis laughs on the other line, and muffled in the background you can hear what sounds like the rest of the guys joking and goofing around. The tension eases in your shoulders. If the guys had been around, then the possibility of something happening between Elvis and this strange woman is slim.

"That's Jerry's girl, honey. She was lookin' for an ice bucket and must a picked up when you called."

His southern drawl is much more prominent, and you wonder if he's been drinking. The information given calms you a bit.

"Oh," You feel a bit silly now.

Elvis must sense this, because his voice is low when he responds.

"You didn't think I was steppin' out on my best girl, did ya?"

You laugh softly into the phone, blushing. God, even miles away this man makes you weak in the knees.

"I was just being silly, I guess. I trust you, Elvis." You tell him earnestly.

"I know ya do honey, you don't gotta worry about a thing." Everything goes muffled for a second on the other line, and you hear Elvis shout something before continuing. "By this time tomorrow night you'll be in my arms little one, just you and me."

You feel your defenses fading away, you previous jealousy a distant memory.

"I can't wait to see you." You say, breathless. "I wish you were here now."

Candice clears her throat from behind you, and you send her a sheepish smile.

"But luckily I got Candy to keep me company."

Elvis chuckles.

"She's a good girl, keepin' you in line for me."

Somebody, Jerry you think, gets real close to the receiver.

"You gonna take this shot with me, E.P.?" Jerry's muffled voice interrupts.

"In a second, man." Elvis responds. You twirl the phone cord around your finger.

"Elvis, don't be taking those pills tonight if you've been drinking." You feel suddenly apprehensive. "I mean it."

You hear Candice sit up on the bed behind you.

Elvis makes a noise of dismissal.

"Knew you were the right woman for me, always worryin'." He laughs. "Don't worry baby, by the time the boys leave I'll probably be passed out in bed. I'm being a good boy, just like I promised."

You want to believe him. You really, really do. Part of you twists with dread, however.

"Elvis, honey, can you put Jerry on the phone for a second? I want him to pass an apology along to Shelia for me."

Candice slaps at you shoulder.

"You're gonna what?" She whisper screams. You flap your hand at her.

Elvis sounds confused but agrees, and Jerry Schilling is on the line in two seconds.

"Hey Y/N! You're missing a great party, I'll tell you what-"

"Jerry," you interrupt. "Jerry would you make sure Elvis's sleeping pills are locked up somewhere? I feel really nervous about him having them when he's been drinking. Please?"

You say everything in a bit of a rush, and Candice looks at you in confusion.

"Sure, Y/N, I can do that for ya." Jerry agrees with little question, and for that you're grateful. You feel the dread dissipate.

"Just don't let Elvis know you're taking them, okay? I don't want you to get into trouble."

Jerry laughs.

"Elvis is right, you do worry too much. I got it handled, Y/N. I'll take care of our boy."

You smile into the receiver.

"Thank you, Jerry, really."

"Not a problem. Here's Elvis."

The muffled laughter in the background grows louder before Elvis takes the phone back.

"Got it all worked out, angel?" He asks.

"Everything's taken care of, baby." You tell him, relief flooding your body. "I'll see you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?"

"I will, Y/N. Don't have too much fun without me, stay away from them soldier boys!" He teases, and you giggle.

"Goodnight, Elvis."

"Goodnight angel."

You both stay on the line a little longer.

"I really wanna tell you somethin', Y/N, but I gotta do it in person." This takes you off guard. You swallow, hoping it's what you're thinking.

"Tell me tomorrow, tomorrow night when you're here and you're sober."

Elvis sighs.

"Tomorrow, baby.''

You clutch the phone to your cheek.

"Tomorrow."