tw: domestic violence

true-blue
adjective
unwaveringly loyal or faithful; staunch

Josephine Robinson was never the type to give up. No matter how hard things got, or how much she hated things, she was not a quitter. Josephine Robinson was strong, she was determined, she was a fighter. Right now, the girl sobbing on her kitchen floor did not feel like Josephine Robinson.

Josephine and Chris were high school sweethearts. She moved to America when she was fourteen, and she was like a ray of sunshine. Gorgeous, blonde, and ridiculously kind. Chris was sixteen. Josephine was naïve, so when she went on her first real date ever and he bought her flowers and chocolates, she felt incredible.

It didn't last.

It started out with a bad day, a bad mood. When Chris was driving her home from school, he was silent. Josephine kept trying to initiate a conversation with him, and kept failing. He'd had enough by the time they reached a red light.

"Do you ever seriously shut the fuck up?!" He exploded, interrupting her mid-sentence. Chris was clutching the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "Jo, I love you, but you're just always talking. And every time you open your mouth, I just think to myself 'Who the fuck does this girl think she is?'. I'm just trying to be a nice guy and drive you home, but you're making it fucking impossible."
"Chris, I'm sorry, I thought-"
"No, Jo. You weren't thinking. That's your problem, you talk all the time but you've got no fucking brains to back it up." The rest of the car ride was silent. Chris glared at her when she jumped out of his pick-up truck and thanked him for the ride, smiling at him. Her smile faded as she walked inside her house.

Not too long after that, it became physical. A small mistake would result in a slap, a punch or a kick from Chris. He would always apologise after, buy her flowers, take her out for dinner, and promise it would never happen again, that he just lost control and he'd fix it. Josephine always believed him.

Now, four years later, Jo had decided she was done. Earlier that day, Josephine had received an acceptance letter from the University of Cambridge. Her initial excitement was immediately brought down by fear. She knew Chris wasn't going to like it, but maybe she could make it work.

Jo's dad was gone for the night, probably passed out drunk on some bench, so Josephine invited Chris over for dinner. Josephine told him that she was thinking of staying with some family in England, just over the summer. She made up some lie about a sick aunt or a struggling cousin. It didn't really matter in the end, because Chris' reaction was the same.

A simple suggestion ended up with four smashed plates on the kitchen floor, a knife stuck in the wall and shards of glass cutting into Josephine's skin. There was a deep gash in her calf, Jo cleaned it and bandaged it herself, because a hospital would ask questions and she didn't have energy for questions right now. So, Jo went against everything she knew and ran.

She packed her bags and left, only bothering to send a message to Chris when she was already at the airport, which was probably one of the largest wastes of money in the country, since her flight was only half full and there was plenty of availability for Jo, who was booking mere hours before takeoff.

Josephine stayed in London that summer, ignored every single call Chris sent her, and lived with her Aunt Frances.

She went to Cambridge in September, and she felt nothing but excitement.

Jo's roommate was called Ivy Lewis, and she was everything you expected of a med student. She was smart, ambitious and determined. She was also Jo's best friend.

Josephine and Ivy sat next to each other in lectures, and despite both of them being very dedicated to their educations, they still found time to give shared "I'm trying so hard not to laugh right now I may actually explode" looks.

Ivy and Jo even moved in together after their first year of student accommodation was over and they were allowed to live off-campus.

"So we started off today by getting Starbucks, and now we have a dog." Ivy stood next to Josephine in the living room, staring at the puppy. "Yeah, I don't know what happened either." Josephine agreed. "What are we going to call it?"
"You don't have a name?"
"How would I have a name? This was a very spur-of-the-moment decision!"
"That's not a good thing, Jo!"
"I know!" There was a moment of silence before Ivy took her phone out and googled "cute dog names" and found a list of about five hundred names in alphabetical order, and none of them were just right.

They ended up using a random name picker for the dog's name. "Eddie." Josephine announced his name when the wheel stopped spinning. "Yeah." Ivy agreed. "Eddie works."

A/N: the only reason i gave chris a pick-up truck is so jo could relate to more taylor swift songs