"I don't feel like it," I told my roommate, Darla. "Seriously, I'm just gonna stay here."

"You never feel like it. Come on!" She was shaking her head. "You gotta get out or you'll go nuts."

Sometimes I thought I already was nuts. I was a senior in college, 21 years old and single, living in a small apartment with Darla. I'd met some guys over the years, but nothing serious. Not since high school, and that hardly counted. Couldn't be serious in high school, maybe not even college, but I might have pretended. If I could go on more than one or two dates with a guy.

I was the mousy girl. You know what mousy means? It means like sorta cute, or kind of pretty. Or a sweet girl, with a nice personality, but not the girl you'd ever get romantic with. Not really. In the dictionary it means drab, boring and quiet, or shy. I suppose that was all of me.

I had boring brown hair, flat and straight and down to my shoulders. If I tried to do anything with it, nah, it just frizzed out. Dull brown eyes, not stupid dull, but just the color. Brown, like the most common brown eyes you never looked into.

A sharp pointy little nose, one that might have been cute except for the glasses I had to perch on it. Round wire rimmed glasses that kept sliding down no matter how much I tried to adjust them. A small mouth, nice teeth, but when I smiled I kept my lips closed, so who would ever know? Three years of braces does that, it teaches you to keep your mouth closed when you smile.

So I had a sort of cute face and my body was okay, but nobody was writing home about it. My boobs were too small for one thing. I mean I'm not all that big anyway, just 5'3" and a hundred pounds maybe, but my breasts were barely B cups. I mean if I really took a deep breath, and mostly that just changed me from a 32 to a 33 you know? It doesn't really change cup size.

My butt's nice. I knew a guy would check me out if he saw my ass first, but it didn't go much farther than that. Okay legs, normal feet. I had all ten toes and I even painted them pink sometimes, just cause I could. I had a lot of free time in the evenings. The only thing I really liked about my body was that I could eat anything and as much of it as I wanted and not gain a pimple or a pound. That was sorta nice.

It didn't get me any dates though.

But neither did staying at home. Darla was going out with her boyfriend and theoretically he, Tom, was going to bump into a friend of his named Kyle. So if I tagged along, Kyle might bump into me, maybe. I'd danced to this tune before though, so I wasn't especially excited. Blind dates were usually best left to romance novels and friends of friends, who always seemed to meet their true loves. I hadn't even met phony love, meaning a guy willing to say he loved me just so he could get into my panties.

Most of that was my fault though, just because it was hard to get me out the door. I wasn't hopelessly shy, but I was a long ways from outgoing, I'll tell you that much. Talking to a man, like a good looking one who might actually be interested in me, that was my worst nightmare. I just didn't know what to say and yeah, guys like to talk, I know, but sometimes they want to listen too. They expect it even, and when it doesn't happen ... Hmmm...

"You have to come, Nina," my roommate decided, digging through my closet.

"I have to?" I looked at her.

"Yep!" Darla nodded. "Where's your clothes?"

"Uh, that's it." I shrugged.

"I thought you went shopping..." Darla sighed. "You're pretty hopeless."

"I know." I tried to look contrite.

"Well don't just sit there. Go get ready!" She was going to dress me after my shower, because Darla was like that.

Sometimes I think the only reason she'd asked me to move in with her was because I was like a full size Barbie Doll for Darla to play with. If Barbie was mousy, I mean. Darla and I had been roommates in the freshman dorm our first year and so we'd become friends, cause it's hard to live a dozen feet away from someone for a full year and not be friends.

I had other friends too, but Darla was my best one, and so we'd roomed together our sophomore year too. Now we were going on two years in our apartment together. I liked it, and not just the little bit more freedom we had living off campus, but also the fact that we could have guys over as often as we liked.

Not that I ever had a guy over, but Darla did, and I sort of liked laying in my bed at night, listening to Darla and whoever she was with have sex in the next room. Darla was loud and she loved sex and if I closed my eyes I could almost pretend it was me underneath that big cock, getting seriously fucked by my boyfriend, or even some guy I'd just met in a club or something. Darla liked guys and while she had steady boyfriends, she also had a lot of one night stands.

It turned me on, seriously, just because I couldn't do it. So I pretended a lot, in my bed, playing with my pussy while my attractive, outgoing friend had sex. She was right, I was going crazy.

Darla looked great, all tall and nicely rounded without being fat, just totally soft. She had round hips, a nice round ass, big round tits, a pretty face with wavy black hair that fell sort of recklessly, like she'd just gotten out of bed after some great sex. I loved her hair and I have no idea how she made it look like that. Like she never brushed it, but it looked good anyway.

Especially in her designer jeans, which looked painted on, and the creamy sweater she wore, that was just thin enough so you could see her dark nipples underneath, if you looked close enough long enough. I know because Darla had me stare at her tits for thirty seconds until I decided I could see her nipples finally. That made her happy, like it mattered somehow.

Add some dark blue eyes, a little red lipstick and we were going to get laid that evening. Darla with Tom's big dick and me with my vibrator, listening to them.

I tried to emulate her, putting on the dress Darla had picked out for me. It was kind of a yellow color, like mustard, and sort of sexy if it had been on someone else. It had made the mannequin look pretty hot, but once I got it home and put it on, it just looked okay. I had to fight down my emotions then, since being jealous of a mannequin in a department store was just going to put me on some sort of medication, I was sure.

I was wearing it now though, at Darla's insistence. She zipped me up and grabbed my tits from behind, squeezing them and shaking my breasts up and down a little.

"Hey!" I turned my head.

"Relax, I'm just fixing this for you." Darla laughed at the look on my face.

"I thought you were turning lez." I turned around as Darla let me go.

"Only for you, baby." Darla grinned at me, sticking out her tongue and wriggling it.

"Yeah, right." I grabbed a barrette so I could pin my hair back.

Neither one of us were even close to being lesbians. But I got hit on once in awhile, seriously, and I kind of lived in fear of waking up one day and realizing the only way I was gonna have sex was with a dyke named Butch. For some reason those girls liked me. Probably cause I was so mousy

Let me skip the part about how Darla tried for half an hour to fix my hair and finally gave up and went for some aspirins. I'll skip the part about how Darla tried to put me in her 3" spiked heels too. I almost broke an ankle; it's a painful memory. We might as well skip Tom's grand entrance when he picked us up, since all he did was salivate over Darla. I was the invisible woman and my nipples got hard watching him play with her ass for a moment. When Darla pointed me out to him, Tom stopped with a self-conscious grin.

So shoot, we'll just skip all the way to the restaurant. See how simple life is for me? It was a nice restaurant and we'd just ordered dinner when all the bumping began.

"There he is." Tom smiled and nodded towards the door.

Happily too, because with me present Tom had to be sort of polite and engage me in conversation, since Darla was holding a long night of sex over his head. She was always watching out for me that way, making sure I was involved. I'd have been happy to sit there quietly, but Darla would feel bad if I did that. So Tom had to talk to both of us.

"Kyle, hey." Tom was standing up and he shook the other guy's hand while Darla and I sat there.

He was a good looking guy, like really good looking with nice black hair, kind of short and neat. Dark eyes, a handsome face with a strong jaw. Great body, really tight from what I could see under his casual suit, or I guess that's what he was wearing. Charcoal slacks and a jacket, a light blue shirt with a properly loosened tie ... I was going for that look in a big way. He wasn't the usual sort of guy you'd find on a blind date, that was for sure, and the reason was standing right next to him.

Indulge me, but I'm guessing she was like 5'11" and 125 pounds of blonde and blue 36-24-36 underwear model packed into a dress that screamed "Fuck Me!" I almost plugged my ears it was so loud, but instead I pushed my glasses up my nose and forced myself to smile. I knew what was going on now ... It wasn't a blind date at all, just fate having a little fun with me.

" ... This is Darla and Nina," Tom was introducing us.

"Nina. Wow. Okay." Kyle was smiling at me and I probably would have creamed right then, except he wasn't done talking. "I have a Nina too."

He pushed the blonde goddess forward with a hand in the small of her back, which was very small I'm sure. She smiled at us too, but I got the impression it was a professional smile, the sort she practiced in the mirror every day. She was very good at it and it would be easy to say I hated her, but mostly I just expected her.

"Your name is Nina too, huh." It wasn't a question and she nodded, looking me over and I could tell she thought I was giving all the rest of the Nina's a bad name.

"Yeah," I squeaked.

"Small world," Tom said, just so the blonde would look at him.

"Too small," the woman said, but softly. I don't think Darla heard it because she was looking for an excuse to be angry. This wasn't what she'd planned on.

Kyle and the real Nina sat down with us, just for a quick drink, Kyle said. A chance to catch up with his old friend Tom. Neither one of them were in college. Tom was a partner in a small construction company and Kyle was a lawyer, but a good one he assured us, working for the District Attorney's office. He put bad guys in jail and he was pretty interesting. Smart, relaxed and funny. And handsome, did I mention that? Yeah, he wasn't my blind date, that was for sure.

He was sitting next to me, between me and Blondie, and Kyle would look at me, much more than I would have expected him to. That was flattering, especially since he was smiling usually, but I chalked it up to guilt. I was pretty sure Tom had told him there'd be a girl there waiting to meet him. But Kyle had brought his own, so ... I was a spare tire. One of those cheap skinny ones only good for a few miles before you threw it back in the trunk.

We talked for a little while, or they did, I just listened mostly. That was one thing I had in common with my namesake. She wasn't talking either, but she wasn't shy, just amazingly bored.

Kyle's celphone rang softly and he apologized, taking it out of his pocket and looking at the number. He pushed a button and shrugged, setting his phone down between his drink and mine. A few minutes later he covered it absently with a napkin, and he'd done it good too, no one noticed except me and I didn't say anything. I just thought it was strange, but the blonde was whispering in his ear at the time, so I pretended not to notice. I didn't want to interrupt her.

Dinner arrived and Kyle and his Nina finished their drinks, saying they had to get going, all that sort of thing. Tom invited them to stay, but no no, have to get to the club, you know, mingle and dance and take the bimbo home and fuck her in the ass ... Nah, Kyle didn't say that, but it would have been nice if he had. A little honesty would have been refreshing.

"Nina, it was nice meeting you." Kyle shook my hand gently and his skin was soft and warm.

"It was nice to meet you." I returned his smile with my own, a small shy one, and then I remembered his phone. "You, uh..."

But by then he was walking off and I might have said something louder, or picked up the phone and gone after him, but the restaurant was a little too nice for that, or I was a little too shy really. So I looked at the napkin and decided that I'd wait until after dinner and then act surprised when I found it. Tom could take the phone and give it to Kyle later and everything would be okay.

That was mousy girl logic at work. Do anything but get attention.

About the time we were almost finished, just sitting back and talking about how good the food had been ... The napkin rang.

I stared at it, a little guiltily, I imagine. What if it was important? Jimmy Hoffa had turned up and they needed Kyle right away! He didn't have his phone because I'd just sat there and said nothing. I tended to think like that. World hunger and the war in Iraq was my fault too. On the weekends.

"Uh ... The napkin's ringing," Darla giggled.

Tom sort of looked at me, since it was like two inches from my hand. I guess I had to be the one answering it.

I lifted the napkin and there was Kyle's phone, ringing softly, but very impolitely in that nice restaurant. Other people were looking now, wondering if someone was going to do something about that noise because it was disturbing the ambiance. This was just getting better and better, so I chided myself for being afraid of a phone and picked it up, pushing the button that looked like it was the right one and holding it to my ear.

"Uh, hello?"

"Hi, Nina?" a man's voice asked and I jumped about six inches and almost dropped it.

"Yes," I said slowly, swallowing hard. "Who is this?"

"Kyle," the man said. "I thought I'd give you a call and see if you wanted to go out tonight."

"Tonight?" I blinked, not really understanding what was going on at all.

"Who is it?" Darla was looking at me all confused.