The alliance of my father and brother and me seemed to trump normal adolescent activities. I was more often at home than out with my friends, and any entanglements I had with boys, I kept secret. My entanglements never went very far, anyway. I wasn't afraid of the sin of it, or of getting pregnant; I was afraid the main event--sex--would not be any good, and I would have to pretend it had been. Or I was afraid that when the moment arrived, I would change my mind, but I would move forward anyway, betraying myself. I was afraid the boy would turn out to be inferior to me, or at least inferior to my father's hopes for me. So I held on to my virginity even as I watched every single one of my friends get rid of theirs. The longer I waited, the more embarrassing a burden it became--one it seemed I might never shed. My