Dumi stared down at the red carpet. Wasn’t this when the ground was supposed to open under his feet and swallow him up? Stop now, he implored her silently, but Alexa still had more to say.

“It would have been OK, Miss, if it was just that, but then Luke Owen grabbed my phone and saw what was on the screen. I tried to stop him, and so did Dumi, but Luke thought it was a big joke. It wasn’t Dumi who shared the picture, Miss. I’m the class rep and everyone’s number is on my phone. All Luke had to do was get into my contacts and press send. And that’s what he did. He sent it to himself, and then he passed it on to all his friends.”

This time Dumi groaned out loud. Once Luke Owen knew that he’d been ratted on in the Principal’s office, Dumi’s life at school would be officially over.

“I phoned Luke last night, Mr Allan.” Alexa looked at the Principal and scowled. “But you know what? He’s a coward. He wouldn’t come forward to help Dumi out. He said I couldn’t prove that he’d put it up on Facebook. And even if he had, he said had every right to. He even talked about ‘freedom of expression’.” She grinned briefly at Dumi. “Who’d have thought Luke Owen knew how to use a three-syllable word, let alone what it means.”

A strident bleep cut into the silence and Miss Majola looked at her phone. “It’s Vuyi,” she said. “Do you mind if I take this outside?” Mr Allan nodded and Miss Majola left the room, closing the door behind her.

“When Dumi told me you’d called for an early meeting, I had to come, Sir,” Alexa said to Mr Allan. “It’s not fair that he takes the blame.”

“I think we have enough grounds to counteract Mr Gaba’s claims,” said Uncle Mivuyo. “Luke Owen is right about freedom of expression, but more where Dumi is concerned than him. All sorts of things come into play when we look at the image Dumi created.”

Dumi watched as his uncle shifted gears. He’d never seen him in a courtroom but he could see how he had got his reputation as being one of the hottest young defence lawyers in town.

“You’re a minor Dumi,” his uncle continued. “Under eighteen and that’s an important factor here.” He looked at his nephew and smiled.

“But I’m still responsible for what I did,” Dumi said.

“Yes,” said Uncle Mivuyo, “of course you are. No-one excuses actions that make fun of, and hurt other people. But like I said, there’s your age and on top of that the social pressures you youngsters have. The law takes that into account.”

Dumi nodded.

Uncle Mivuyo glanced at him sympathetically. “What it all boils down to, really, is that you wanted to impress Miss Conradie here. Perfectly natural behaviour. But when your classmates got hold of the picture, things really got out of hand. They thought it would be funny to share it, and it went viral. They acted rashly, and without thinking of the consequences, but–” Uncle Mivuyo paused, raised a finger and looked around, “they’re also minors.”

“Only problem is,” Alexa muttered, “they’ll never grow up.”

“Maybe not,” Uncle Mivuyo smiled. “And if they don’t and they do this sort of thing again, then they can be treated like adults who have abused their right to freedom of expression.” He stopped and laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “once I get going on how the law works, I’m hard to shut up.”

There was a slight rap on the door and Miss Majola returned. “I’m sorry I took so long, but it took me a while to fill Vuyi in on all the details. He’s calmed down quite a bit. I have good news and somewhat daunting news.” She smiled slightly at Dumi and Alexa. “The good news is that he’s decided not to sue.”

Dumi’s mother gave a small cry of relief and crumpled back in her chair. His father exhaled slowly and Dumi saw the worry lift from his face.

“And the daunting news?” he asked cautiously.

“Ah yes, that,” said Miss Majola. “He wants to see you, Dumi. In person.”

“It’s not fair,” Alexa said hotly. “Your boyfriend knows that Dumi didn’t share that picture all over Facebook and Twitter, Miss. Why doesn’t he want to see Luke and all his dumb friends? They’re the ones who have caused all this mess.”

“No, Alexa,” Dumi said. “I’m the one who started this. I have to try to make up for it though. Otherwise I’m never going to grow into anything much. This is my mess.”

Dumi stopped. What the hell. He was so deep in trouble, he might as well come fully clean, in front of everyone. “You’re right, you know. I was a bit jealous when you started telling me how hot Miss Majola’s man was.” He flashed a quick glance in Miss Majola’s direction. “Sorry, Miss, but it’s true. You see, I know I’m never going to be hot. Girls aren’t ever going to look at me the way they look at Vuyisile Gaba. I’m just not that sort of guy. And that’s OK I suppose. I’m just tired of being called a loser.”

“Dumi,” Alexa interrupted, but he held up a hand.

“Let me finish, OK?”

She nodded.

“So Luke Owen and those other guys? What they did was also wrong and the whole thing went totally insane, but when it happened, even when they were calling me ‘Princess Dumi’, at least they were seeing me. I was more than just the wimpy kid who can be shoved around by everyone. In a weird way it made me feel like one of the class, not an outsider.”

“That’s just it though, Dumi. Don’t you see?” Uncle Mivuyo said. “Peer pressure, immaturity, wanting to fit in, these things often cause young people to behave rashly. You–”

He stopped himself with a laugh. “OK, OK. No more fine points of law. Let’s rather look at what you can do to apologise to Miss Majola and Mr Gaba.”

Dumi looked at Miss Majola again. He could start by telling more of the truth. “I’m sorry Miss. I wanted to him to look like a fool, and me to look cool.”

He looked back down at the floor, at the red carpet under his feet. He was on the carpet for the first time in his life, and after this he’d never be welcome in this office again. “I know I’ve messed everything up,” he said. “You’ll probably want to suspend me, Sir. And I’ll lose my scholarship. I can’t do anything about that. But I want to do what I can do to make things right. When does your boyfriend want to see me, Miss?”

Miss Majola’s voice was soft and sympathetic. “I don’t know Dumi,” she said. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Well, if you’re going, I’m going too,” Alexa said.

“But it’s not your fault–”

“Oh shut up, Dumi. It’s one thing to be noble, but don’t go all martyr on me. We’re in this together, OK?”

***

Tell us what you think: Should the idea of freedom of expression protect people who do things like Dumi did?