The First Time by Joy Fielding

Author:Joy Fielding
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780743407069
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1999-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

NINETEEN

Come on in. Hurry up.” Kim quickly ushered Teddy Cranston through her front door, casting a furtive glance down the quiet dark street, mindful of potential prying eyes peeking out from neighboring homes. Not that she was doing anything wrong, she thought. At least, not technically. She was grounded. That meant she couldn’t go out. It didn’t mean she couldn’t invite somebody in. Besides, her parents were out for the evening, so what difference did it make? What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Undoubtedly her mother or her father, possibly even both, would be calling home at some point in the evening to make sure she hadn’t left the house, and she’d be ready for them. Just like she was ready for Teddy. Tonight’s the night, she’d told him over the phone. Get your ass over here in half an hour or miss your chance. Exactly twenty-nine minutes later, he was at her door.

“My room’s upstairs,” Kim said, leading the way. Why waste time on preliminaries? They’d spent months on preliminaries. Now they had only a couple of hours to get the job done.

“Nice house,” Teddy remarked, taking off his heavy brown leather jacket, dropping it over the banister as he followed Kim up the stairs.

“It’s okay.”

They didn’t speak again until they reached the door to her room. Kim took a quick peek inside to make sure it looked presentable. After calling Teddy, she’d hastily tossed everything that wasn’t weighted down into the closet. She’d even made her bed. Her mother was always going on about how uncomfortable it was to sleep in a bed that hadn’t been made. Not that they’d be doing any sleeping, Kim thought with a silent chuckle, banishing her mother from the room with a shake of her blond hair.

“Cool,” Teddy said vaguely, stepping onto the wheat-colored carpet and looking around. “Great quilt,” he said, eyes coming to rest on the queen-size bed.

Kim nodded. Actually, the comforter was a mock quilt, made up of a series of brightly colored patches, each patch individual and distinct, red-and-white stripes beside blue-and-white gingham up against yellow flowers and large green dots. Her mother had selected the comforter, just as she’d chosen everything else in the room, although ostensibly it was Kim making the decisions. “Whatever you want,” her mother had told her when they first moved in. “You’re a big girl now. We’ll decorate your room exactly the way you want.”

Except what did Kim know of what she wanted? She was only eleven when they’d moved in. She hadn’t had time to develop a sense of taste or a semblance of style. And so she’d gone along with all her mother’s suggestions. Even her walls were a reflection of her mother’s personality. While most girls her age plastered their walls with posters of the latest Hollywood heartthrob, supermodel, or singing group, the sand-colored walls of Kim’s room were covered with framed posters from the Art Institute, signed and numbered lithographs by the likes of Joan Miro and

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