Enrolling myself into nursing school is the best thing that I’ve done for myself since I dumped Owen’s ass. I only wish that I would’ve done it sooner.

Sometimes I think about how stupid I was during our three-year relationship no matter how hard I try not to. To this day, I still can’t say exactly what made me stay with him for so long.

Sure, he was good-looking, educated, and polite, but he was also very dull and selfish. Maybe his intelligence is what attracted me to him the most, but I should’ve known better than to put a man before myself.

I think a lot of younger women do that: put their boyfriend before themselves, and I was no different, but I should’ve seen the writing on the wall when I put my future on hold for the sake of his.

He didn’t have a problem with me quitting school so that only one of us had to work a full-time job—as long as that person was me. Like a lost little lamb who thought she was in love, I quickly obliged because I was head over heels.

My friends and family all told me that he should’ve been the one working full-time to support us to allow me to go to school, but I naively brushed off their advice and wore a stupid grin plastered on my face all in the name of love.

For three long, tedious, mind-numbing years, I put up with the relationship that we had—if that’s what you want to call it, but those days are gone. I already wasted my early 20’s, and now that my mid-twenties are approaching, I’ve thrown out the old Penny and brought in the new.

My first week of school was overwhelming, yet amazing at the same time. It was so nice to sit in class, take notes, learn new things, and meet new people, but now that the weekend is here, I’m ready to unload, so I decide to make a call to my friend, Sabrina, to see what she’s up to.

“Hello?” my friend, Sabrina, answers.

“Hey, girl! What are you doing tonight?” I ask her.

“Ugh. I promised to help my sister make centerpieces for all of the tables at her wedding. She’s got the whole weekend planned out for us. I’m sure it’ll be fun,” she says sarcastically.

“Why don’t you get out of it and tell her you’ve got other plans?”

“What other plans? You know me, I never go out,” she says.

“You could come out with me, have a few drinks, and have some fun!”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. She’ll kill me if I don’t show up. She’s turned into Bridezilla.” I can hear her punching the buttons on the microwave. “If I thought she was bitchy before, this wedding has brought out a whole new level of bitchiness.”

Sabrina’s sister has always been a bitch, which is why the two of them don’t get along. I remember when we were teenagers in high school, she used to barge into Sabrina’s room any chance she could so that she could butt her nose into our business. Of course, she’d always take any information that she had back to their mom and get us in trouble, so none of us liked her.

“Are you sure you can’t get out of it? I’m dying to go out.”

“Sorry, Penny, I would if I could, but I can’t. Why don’t you call Abby and see if she can go with you? She’s usually good for a night out.”

“Yeah, I think I might do that. Try not to shove any flowers up your sister’s ass,” I tease her.

“No promises,” the microwave beeps. “Listen, my food’s ready, so I’m going to go. Good luck,” she says.

“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

The whole reason why I called her first is because she’s more fun to go out with than Abby. Abby’s a party girl, for sure, but she also gets fall-down-drunk and usually requires a babysitter all night, which totally kills the mood.

Staring at my phone, I debate whether or not I should give her a call. I don’t know what to do because part of me wants someone to go out with, but the other part of me doesn’t want to deal with her drunkenness. Before I can make a decision, my phone starts ringing, and it’s her.

“Hey Abster,” I pick up the phone.

“What’s up? Sabrina said you wanted to go out tonight?”

Geez, does she have to blab everything?

“Yeah, I was thinking about going to The Impulse tonight. Are you free?”

I regret the words the instant they leave my lips, but I don’t want to be rude. Abby, Sabrina and I have been best friends since our sophomore year of high school. Besides, maybe she won’t drink much tonight, or perhaps she will. I know she will, she always does, and she gets in so much trouble when she does, too.

“Not tonight. Sabrina said you wanted to go out, but I have to clean tonight because my parents are coming in the morning. My dad’s going to measure my floors to replace them with hardwood, and then he’s going to fix my bedroom ceiling fan. We can go tomorrow, though, if you want,” she offers.

As much as I’d love to have some company, I really don’t want to wait another night, and I don’t want to have to babysit her solo.

“Tomorrow night’s not good for me,” I lie. “I have a lot of homework to do from my classes, and I figured I could use a break before I really dig in, but thanks for the offer.”

“All right,” she says. “But if you change your mind, let me know. Okay?”

“Will do,” I reply.

“I better go. My place is completely trashed, and if I want to get up early enough to let them in tomorrow, I’m going to have to get to bed at a decent time.”

“Good night, Abby,” I say, hitting the end button.

After a quick shower, I blow dry my hair and find the tightest pair of jeans I own. Owen always hated when I wore tight clothes, which makes me wiggle my ass into them that much faster. Retrieving a low-cut blouse from the closet, I pull it over my head before slipping into a pair of black pumps.

Standing before my bathroom vanity, I put on my gold hoop earrings and begin to perfectly paint my face for the evening. Pulling back my blonde, wavy hair, I apply foundation to even out my skin tone before applying a few shades of eyeshadow. To complete my look, I tightly line my eyes with black eyeliner, brush on a couple of layers of mascara, and, finally, coat my lips in shiny red lipstick.

Owen hated when I wore dark makeup, which makes me smile that much more.

“Good,” I say to myself before turning off the light.

Grabbing my purse and keys off the counter, I head out for a night of adventure—at least, I hope. How depressing would it be if I ended up going to the bar alone and sitting by myself the whole time?

I quickly dismiss that thought as soon as I walk out of my apartment complex when a group of guys hanging around the front entrance whistles at me as I walk past them. With my chin tilted high, I smile as I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.

Tonight will be fun.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, backing out of my space.