Single White Female by John Lutz Page B

She’d delight the most demanding drill instructor.
    The faintest of sounds was emanating from Allie’s bedroom. Someone moving around, the soles of their shoes lightly scraping the floor. Odd. Almost as if they were dancing.
    Allie edged forward, her heartbeat quickening. She reached out her right hand and touched the wall as if for balance. Should she be in here? she wondered. Should she be doing this? Of course, damn it! This was her apartment. She lived here, not Sam.
    At the door she paused and drew a deep breath. Then she stepped boldly into the room. “Sam—”
    Not Sam.
    Hedra.
    She was standing very erect in the middle of the room. Before the full-length mirror mounted on the closet door.
    Hedra’s body twitched and her head snapped around. Her eyes and mouth grew round as she saw Allie. She said something like “Whaa—” More a rush of breath than an exclamation.
    She was wearing Allie’s expensive blue dress from Altman’s, with the silver belt, silver shoes, and even Allie’s dangling silver earrings with the cubic zirconia stones. Transformation. Night-on-the-town time.
    Allie stood rooted in surprise, not knowing what to say, and wondering what was happening. Hedra’s slim body hunched over violently, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She wobbled back a few steps in Allie’s high heels, like a little girl playing dress-up, and groaned, “I thought you were going to lunch . . .” As if Allie had cheated by returning home.
    Allie said, “The lunch was canceled. I thought you were working today.”
    “Didn’t need me today.” Hedra’s lower lip quivered. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. If Allie handed her a shovel, she’d try to dig a hole in the floor so she could climb in and hide. “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry about this . . .”
    A hot rush of anger welled strong in Allie. Then it quickly waned. She’s about to cry, she thought, staring at Hedra. Oh, no! I don’t want to fucking see that! Or hear it! She’s about to collapse into a sobbing jag that might last for an hour.
    Then pity forced aside the anger, and she crossed the room and placed her hand on Hedra’s quaking shoulder, on the smooth material of her own dress. She thought selfishly for a moment that she didn’t want tearstains on it. Hedra shrank away as if Allie were preparing to strike her.
    Allie managed a cardboard smile. “S’okay, Hedra. Okay. We’re only talking about a dress here, not international espionage. No harm done.”
    “My God, I mean, I was trying on your clothes. I don’t know why I did it, what possessed me. Honest.”
    “I believe you.” She patted the shoulder, still vibrating beneath her touch. “Now you believe me. It’s all right; it really is.”
    The flesh at the corners of Hedra’s lips arced down and danced; tears still glistened and threatened in her injured-animal eyes. “It’s just that I envy you so. I mean, how you seem to make your own way so confident and all. You’re always sure of yourself and I’m always in doubt. It sounds crazy, but I thought, well, maybe if I put on the dress you look so great in . . .”
    “That some of it would rub off?” Allie finished for her. “A kind of personality transfer?”
    Even in her humiliation Hedra had to smile. “No, not exactly. But I guess, well, yeah, maybe something like that. I just wanted to try on the dress and see how I’d look, is all.”
    “Then it’s simple as that,” Allie said. “No point getting uptight and Freudian about it.”
    “I guess not,” Hedra agreed, after seeming to consider for a moment whether to let Freud in on this.
    Allie moved away from her and sat down on the edge of the mattress. The bedsprings sang. Sam. “Don’t envy me, Hedra. My life’s not as good as it seems from the outside. I have doubts, problems. Just like you do. Big problems sometimes.”
    “Only sometimes, though. And you solve them.”
    “Not always.”
    Hedra frowned, puzzled. “You mean