Rescue Me: Dark High School Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Sapphire Bay High Book 2)

by Naomi Martin

  The taller girl struggles but finally lets her shorter friend pull her away. They start to leave but the girl I slapped turns and glares at me over her shoulder.

  “Bitch.”

  I give her a wink and a small wave as I watch them disappear around one of the stacks. Their voices carry as they descend the stairs, both girls still spewing insults as they go. Still grinning, I turn back to the girl at the table. She looks up at me tentatively, a nervous expression on her face.

  “T-thank you,” she says, her voice quavering. “Nobody has ever stood up for me before.”

  I drop down into the seat across from her and smile. “I just don’t like bullies,” I tell her. “Who were those two, anyway?”

  She sighs, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Brittany and Lacey.”

  “Mean girl names, if I’ve ever heard one.”

  A rueful smile touches her lips. “They’re definitely mean girls,” she confirmed. “They have been since junior high school. They just love to torment me. They live for it.”

  “They need a new hobby.”

  “Tell me about it.” She rolls her eyes. “But you get used to it. Learn how to tune them out.”

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t have to.”

  We sit in an awkward silence for a moment, neither of us speaking or even looking at each other. Apparently, she’s as bad at first meetings as I am. I take a sip of my drink and clear my throat.

  “So, you’re new here?” she asks. “In Sapphire Bay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, we just moved here a couple of weeks ago,” I reply. “I’m Tatum.”

  “Hi, Tatum. I’m Katie.” She gives me a small smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.”

  “So, where did you move from?”

  “Virginia. Norfolk,” I tell her. “My mom is active duty in the Navy.”

  “Oh, wow, that has to be hard.”

  I shrug. “Yeah, being uprooted and moved around the country sucks.”

  We both laugh and it feels like the awkward wall of tension that had sat between us has evaporated. And, just like that, we’re talking like old friends, all of the strain that had enveloped us before gone like a puff of smoke on a breeze.

  We spend the next couple of hours chatting away and learning that we’ve got a lot in common—most importantly, our love of books. Like me, she’s big into science fiction and fantasy. We also have similar taste in music and movies.

  It seems like we’ve got more in common than we don’t. And by the time we walk out of the bookstore together a few hours later, I’m feeling good for the first time since we moved here.

  I feel like I’ve made my first friend.

  Chapter Three

  My music is playing loud and I’m dancing around as finish unpacking my room. I break down the boxes and drop them into a pile on the floor, then turn and start hanging up picture frames.

  “Looks good in here.”

  I squeak and spin around, dropping the hammer I’m holding. It bounces off my toe and I squeal in pain.

  “Goddammit!”

  My father, leaning against the doorjamb, winces. “Sorry, honey.”

  My toe throbbing painfully, I pick up the hammer and drop it on my desk, then turn down my stereo. I round on my dad, my jaw clenched.

  “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

  He chuckles. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have heard me knocking over your music, anyway.”

  I open my mouth to reply but realize he’s probably right, so I close it again. He looks around my room and nods approvingly.

  “It’s looking good in here,” he says.

  “Thanks.”

  “I made some lunch. You hungry?”

  I nod. “Yeah, sure. I can eat.”

  He bends down and scoops up all of the broken-down boxes. “I’ll take these out. Just get washed up.”

  He leaves and I finish hanging up the picture frame I was working on when he interrupted me. After that, I peel off my sock to look at my injured toe. It’s red and will probably bruise, but it doesn’t feel broken. It’s just going to hurt like a bitch for a little bit.

  I glance at the clock and see that it’s later than I thought. I call downstairs to my dad, telling him I’m going to take a quick shower, then gather up my clothes and dart into the bathroom. Once I get myself cleaned up and dressed, I bounce downstairs, a spring in my step. I’m humming my favorite song to myself as I dance into the kitchen and drop down into my chair at the table.

  “Well, you certainly seem like you’re in a good mood today,” my father remarks.

  I shrug. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Dad sets a plate down in front of me. It’s a ham and turkey sandwich with cheese and chips. He takes the seat across from me and takes a bite of his own sandwich. We eat in silence for a few minutes and I look around for the first time, noticing that the kitchen is all put together.

  “Looks good in here, Dad.”

  He nods as he chews. “Yeah, it’s coming along,” he replies. “I think your mom is going to be pleased when she comes home on leave.”

  “When is that going to be?”

  He shakes his head. “Not sure just yet. Hopefully soon.”

  I take a bite and frown. I miss my mom, not that I’ll readily admit that to her. Yeah, we butt heads sometimes and we clash—like about the whole moving-out-here thing, for one—but I love her. I miss her when she’s deployed somewhere in the world and not here with us. She’s missed more birthdays and holidays than I can count, and it sucks every single time.

  My dad says it is what it is and all we can do is support my mom in her chosen career. My father is always supportive of the both of us. He believes in encouraging us to pursue our dreams and passions, and he always pushes us toward them. But I know not having her around much bums him out, too. He’s just better at accepting it and being supportive than I am—or he’s just better at hiding how much he’s hurting.

  “So, what has you so chipper this morning?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Can’t I just be in a good mood?”

  “Oh, sure, absolutely,” he replies. “It’s just such a rarity, I thought there might be a reason.”

  “Ha ha. Aren’t you just the funniest guy ever.”

  “Maybe not ever, but…”

  We make small talk as we finish lunch and I have to admit, the lessening of tension between us is nice. It’s a lot better than the strained atmosphere of the past couple of weeks. I guess making a friend is helping improve both my mood and my attitude about being here.

  Finished eating, I take our plates and rinse them off, popping them in the dishwasher before I turn back around. My dad is still sitting at the table, watching me, a small smile on his face.

  “What are you staring at, weirdo?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he replies. “What’s on your agenda for the day?”

  I chew on my bottom lip, suddenly a little nervous, and lean back against the counter behind me.

  “Well, actually, if you don’t need me around here, I was going to meet somebody down at the bookstore.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me, a grin on his face. “And does this somebody have a name?”

  I roll my eyes. “Her name is Katie.”

  “How did you meet Katie?”

  I know he won’t be thrilled with the idea of me fighting, even though it was he and my mom who’d pushed me into self-defense classes. It wasn’t my idea, but eventually I’d learned to like it, if for no other reason than the physical release. But as I’d gotten more proficient with different techniques, I enjoyed knowing that I could defend myself if necessary. But my parents also made sure to impress upon me that it was for self-defense, not for running around starting fights.

  “I-I met her in the bookstore,” I told him.

  He eyeballs me closely, knowing I’m holding something back. I have never been able to lie to my parents. They always seem to know when I’m not being open or truthful. Always. It’s annoying,
honestly.

  “A couple of girls were picking on her, so I stepped in,” I admit with a sigh.

  “Stepped in?” he echoes. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

  “I may or may not have slapped one member of the bitch brigade,” I tell him. “But they were bullying Katie really bad.”

  Disappointment crosses my father’s face. “Tatum, we’ve talked about this.”

  “She swung at me first. It was self-defense.”

  He lets out a long breath, clearly frustrated and skeptical—I admit to having a bit of a temper—but he’s doing his best to hold it in. I can tell he doesn’t want to completely light me up for it since I made a friend and all, but he can’t quite hide his disapproval. I know my mom would have less of a problem with it, though, since I was standing up for somebody being bullied.

  “It was one slap,” I insist. “And it wasn’t even that hard. But she did swing at me first.”

  “Well, you know I don’t approve of you fighting,” he says. “But I’m proud of you for standing up for somebody. I know your mom would be, too.”

  I give him a slow, hesitant smile. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Just don’t go around smacking people, Tatum,” he admonishes. “You don’t want to get that kind of a reputation here.”

  I laugh softly. “Might not be such a bad thing. It’ll keep people from messing with me.”

  He arches and eyebrow. “Tatum, that’s not how we raised you.”

  “I know, I know.” I roll my eyes. “I’m kidding, Dad. Jeez.”

  “So, will I get to meet this Katie?”

  I nod. “Eventually.”

  “So mysterious.”

  I laugh. “Can you spare me for the afternoon?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he replies. “Go, have fun. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  * * * * *

  I spend most of the afternoon following Katie around town as she points out the finer points of Sapphire Bay. She tells me all about the people around here, introduces me to some of the shop owners she knows, and, of course, we spend time in the bookstore. Like me, it’s her safe place. It’s where she goes to get away from the world—or at least tries to. Sometimes, the world follows her in, as it did the day we met.

  After the bookstore, we head over to Patty’s, a diner she says is an institution in Sapphire Bay. With a floor that’s a black and white checkerboard, red vinyl booths and stools, and lots of chrome, Patty’s is a throwback to the fifties. It’s charming and really adds to the whole small-town flavor of this place.

  We step through the door and Katie waves to a woman who also looks like a throwback to the fifties. Her iron-gray hair is pulled back into a severe bun, she’s got deep lines etched into her face, and she’s short, with a plump figure. The woman looks like a stern, disapproving teacher but as she approaches our table, she smiles and it transforms her. Her eyes sparkle and she suddenly looks more like a warm, doting grandmother than anything.

  “Who’s your friend, Katie?”

  Katie smiles at her. “Annie, this is Tatum,” she introduces me. “She’s new to Sapphire Bay.”

  “Well, welcome to Patty’s, Tatum,” she greets, beaming. “And welcome to Sapphire Bay.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  Somebody calls her from the back and she rolls her eyes as she sets down the menus in her hand.

  “I’ll give you girls a few minutes.”

  She turns and heads off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving us alone in our booth. The diner is half-full, a mix of older people and kids my age. An old-fashioned jukebox sits against the rear wall, playing a surprising mix of music—older classics and today’s hits.

  “Patty’s has the best milkshakes in the world,” Katie tells me. “Guarantee you’ve never had a better one.”

  “Made with real ice cream?”

  She nods, a wide grin on her face. “You know it.”

  “Excellent.”

  As we peruse the menu, Katie gives me a brief history lesson. Patty, whom the diner is named for, was Annie’s mom. After Patty passed on, Annie’s sister Margaret ran the place for a while. Once she got bored and wanted to do something else, she left it for Annie to run. So it seems the mom-and-pop feel of the places around here is not for nothing and isn’t just some affectation or gimmick.

  We place our order—just fries and a chocolate milkshake for me, a strawberry milkshake for Katie. A few minutes later, Annie brings back our orders and we chat away as we munch. The more we talk, the more I find myself liking Katie. We have our differences, of course, but she and I are so similar in so many ways that in just a couple of days spent together now, I feel as close to her as even some of my friends back in Norfolk. I’ve never had such an instant bond with somebody like this, and though it’s surprising, it’s very welcome.

  The bell on the door chimes and I look over to see a boy my age walk in, and I feel my heart turn a somersault inside of me. Tearing my eyes away from him, I turn back to Katie, who is grinning like a fool. I clear my throat and try to fight back the heat I feel flaring in my face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You know what.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You lie,” she says with a laugh.

  I cut a glance over at the boy standing at the pick-up counter. He’s tall—probably around six feet—with deep brown hair, eyes the color of milk chocolate, and sun-kissed golden skin. He’s thin but well-built, his t-shirt clings to a frame packed with tightly corded muscle. He’s absolutely beautiful and I’m having a hard time not staring at him.

  “I see you set your sights high.” Katie grins.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That’s Ryan Fitzsimmons,” Katie whispers. “Only one of the best looking and most popular boys in school.”

  He is certainly a good-looking guy, no question about that. And just looking at him makes my heart flip-flop in my chest. But boys are about the last thing I should even be thinking about right now. I’ve got too many other things to deal with at the moment.

  “Oh my God, he’s coming over,” Katie hisses.

  I cut a glance his way and my heart nearly stops dead in my chest when I see that he is indeed walking toward us. Sitting back in my seat, I look over at Katie, who looks as nervous as I do. She’s clearly as awkward around cute boys as I am. He stops in front of our table and looks down at us, his eyes lingering on me as he smiles before he turns to Katie.

  “Hey, Katie,” he says.

  “Hey, Ryan,” she replies.

  An awkward silence descends over us, stretching on for a long moment. Katie and I look at each other and share a nervous giggle. Ryan is left standing there shaking his head and grinning. When he turns to me, I feel the warmth spreading through my face.

  “Hi,” he says. “I’m Ryan.”

  “Tatum.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tatum.”

  “Yeah, you too.”

  “You’re new here.” It’s a statement, not a question.

  I nod. “Moved here a couple of weeks ago.”

  Katie hides her grin by taking a long drink of her shake through the straw. I pop a fry into my mouth and chew, giving Ryan a smile I hope doesn’t look as awkward as it feels.

  “So, you settling in okay?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah, it’s good so far.” I motion to Katie. “I’ve already made a good friend. I’m getting a good lay of the land and am enjoying the best milkshake I’ve ever had in my life—”

  “Told you,” Katie interjects.

  I laugh and turn back to Ryan. “Things are… good,” I say. “So, what, are you the official Sapphire Bay welcoming committee or something?”

  Ryan looks taken aback and I realize quickly that my tone was sharper than I’d intended it to be.

  “Sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

  “It’s cool. No worries.” He flashes me that million-dollar smile. �
�And to answer your question, no, I’m not the official welcoming committee. I do volunteer part time, though.

  “Listen, we’re having a bonfire down at the beach on Saturday. Why don’t you guys come?” he suggests. “I can introduce you to some folks worth getting to know—”

  “And some who aren’t,” Katie snipes.

  Ryan purses his lips but nods. “Yeah, we have some real assholes here. Can’t deny it,” he concedes. “But there are a lot of good people here, too.”

  I look at Katie, the desire to go to the bonfire suddenly overwhelming. But she couldn’t possibly look less interested. Not that I can blame her, if the two blondes from the bookstore are any indication of the sort of people who will be in attendance.

  “Come on. I promise I’ll keep you both safe.” Ryan turns his focus on me. “I promise you won’t have to slap anybody.”

  I laugh. “Oh, you heard about that?”

  “I may have heard a little something about it.” He grins. “And, to be honest, it’s well past time somebody put those two in check.”

  “Then why do you hang out with them?” Katie’s tone is bitter, harsh.

  Ryan sighs. “I don’t hang out with them,” he explains. “We happen to run in the same circles. But I personally can’t stand Brittany and Lacey—just so you know.”

  She unclenches her jaw and the expression on her face softens as she seems to be somewhat mollified. She gives me a small shrug, as if telling me the decision is mine. I flash her a grateful smile then look up at Ryan, doing my best to control my excitement so I don’t sound like an idiot—or a girl who’s desperate.

  Behind him, Annie calls his name; his order is ready. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. Trying to control the churning in my stomach, I sit up straighter and give him a smile I hope looks only semi-interested, like I’m doing him a favor by agreeing to come. I don’t want that ego of his to get out of control.

  “Yeah, we’ll come,” I agree. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Great.” He hands me his phone. “Type in your number and I’ll text you the details.”

  I take his phone and program my info, then hand it back to him. He looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eye.