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Carolyn never confronted Elvis about the others, but she wondered what his parents thought about his sexual behavior. She met Gladys and Vernon only once, backstage, and her heart sank when she realized Elvis had never told them about her, that they reacted as if she were just another singer on the Hayride. But she saw how Elvis’s dynamic attraction for women troubled his mother. “She was very quiet and reserved and didn’t smile very much. His father smiled a little bit more, but neither of them had much to say. If I had been his mother, I would have been very afraid of where it all was leading.”

Still, Carolyn forgave him for keeping company with the other girls, because she still wanted to see him. She’d have to be sure that he was dedicated and faithful before she completely gave her heart, though. And coming from a family of “pretty devout Presbyterians, I had some strong moral values.” But she tried to keep a positive attitude. She was an independent girl, and if things didn’t work out, they could both go on to greener pastures.

“She was very sharp and spunky,” offers Ginny Wright. “And her mother watched her real close. Carolyn was still going to school at that time, so her mother wouldn’t let her book too much. She told Fabor, ‘My daughter’s too young to be going out on the road and keeping those hours.’ ”

But Carolyn did go over to East Texas on the package shows sometimes, and at least one photograph, taken at the Hawkins (Texas) High School gym in December 1954, attests to their few appearances together. The next day, she was either still on the road, or couldn’t raise her head off the pillow to go to school. That prompted the truant officer to visit her mother a time or two (“I gave that poor lady such grief”), but she still insisted on being part of it all. With Bill or Scotty behind the wheel, Elvis and Carolyn would harmonize in the backseat, working up gospel songs like “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Elvis would sing bass, and something about the way he looked when he sang it tickled her, and they’d tumble with laughter.

“The Memphis Flash,” as Horace Logan called Elvis in his Hayride introductions, was still green in his stage prattle (“Friends, I’m too pooped to pop!”), replying he was, “Sick, sober, and sorry,” when Logan asked him how he was getting along. But he was already outgrowing the radio show, and soon Elvis would be too big for its package shows, too, particularly after Bob Neal’s management contract took effect in January 1955, and the records charted higher, and he toured nearly every day of the year.

Elvis would let Carolyn know when his shows were close enough for her to attend, and he and Scotty and Bill would swing through and pick her up. That posed a problem.

“Mom didn’t care a lot about my seeing musicians, and a lot of our dates were en route to and from his appearances. Boy, this almost drove her crazy.”

It all made Carolyn’s head spin, too. Everything was happening so fast—Elvis was like a comet streaking across the sky. By March, he was headlining, and by May, he created riots wherever he went. By June, he’d outgrown Neal as his solo manager, and by July, he’d hit the national charts. Come October, he would be too big for the little Sun label, and that meant he’d be ready for a national launch in 1956. And where would that leave them?

“I think the potential was there for us to fall in love, but the pull of fame, and the reality of how popular he was becoming meant the relationship didn’t have a chance to develop. He was getting so busy that I never knew from one time to the other how long it would be until I would see him again.”

Finally, she concluded that any time might be the last time. And after a few months, the romance flamed out.

“It wasn’t like we broke up or said good-bye. We didn’t even get to say good-bye. He was just whisked away and out of my life.”

And just as Elvis’s career was in its stratospheric rise, Carolyn’s stalled.

“She was a beautiful young lady,” in the view of Tom Bearden