There is a certain genre of fiction that nostalgizes the horniness of male teenagers into a sweet virtue, while at the same time fails to consider even the possibility that the girls in the story might have internal lives. This is one of those. I guarantee you that a large subset of the listening audience *did* think about the girls in the story, who bathed in the river and worried about boys hiding in the bushes to watch them, or who might not want to be trapped in a building in a beautiful red dress waiting to be rescued by a lascivious 13-year-old boy. The author said about this story, "It’s simply how kids grow up in Mexico. Especially if you’re a boy." Indeed.