“Well, Dumi? We’re waiting.”

Dumi stared at his mom and dad. “I don’t know where to start,” he said miserably.

“Try the beginning,” his dad said dryly, “and we’ll take it from there, step by step.”

Dumi took a deep breath. “OK,” he said. “OK. I was in Computers, and Mr Troy was late for class. Alexa Conradie sits next to me, and a bunch of guys sit in the row behind us. Alexa and I had been texting each other–”

“Texting?” Dumi’s father frowned. “In class?”

“I know Dad, but we’d both finished our work, and…”

He couldn’t tell his dad how much he liked it when Alexa sent him a text. And this time there had been a picture too, of Miss Majola and her new boyfriend. “Vuyisile Gaba, Dad. You know, the provincial rugby prop? All during sports day he was signing autographs and everyone was so excited that he was at our school, watching the first fifteen play rugby.”

Vuyisile Gaba. Just looking at him on the screen had made Dumi feel puny and scrawny. He was built like the Hulk and Miss Majola looked so tiny standing next to him. Alexa had texted:

Sweet, hey?

And he’s soooo fine.

Dumi had replied:

Not that fine. Bit of a jock.

She answered:

Mmm, I wouldn’t mind. You cn neva

have too much of what he’s got.

Lucky Miss M.

And he responded:

Mmmm??? Lucky? Really???

Before he knew it, Photoshop was open. Dumi uploaded the picture onto the computer in front of him and his fingers flew across the keyboard, his mouse clicking double-time.

He texted back to Alexa and attached the results of his artwork.

A bit of a jock and

a bit of a joke too.

He’d given Miss Majola’s boyfriend long blond hair, false eyelashes and pouting pink lips. Instead of wearing jeans and a T-shirt stretched tight across his impressively muscled torso, Vuyisile Gaba now wore a skimpy white top and sported a stupendously deep cleavage. Under that Dumi had cut and pasted a microscopic miniskirt which showed off a pair of beautifully sculpted men’s legs, shaven like a swimmer’s. The finishing touch was a pair of ridiculously high heels. Miss Majola was now gazing adoringly up at the patched-together ‘girl’ who towered over her.

Not my best work

Dumi texted.

If I had more time, it would be a work of art.

Alexa giggled as she looked at it.

Dumi’s father shook his head when Dumi reached this part of the story. “I don’t understand Dumi,” he said. “What was the point in making the picture, let alone sending it?”

Dumi looked at the floor. He couldn’t tell his dad how he’d felt seeing Alexa drooling over Miss Majola’s boyfriend. Alexa would never look at him in that way, Dumi knew. But that hadn’t stopped a sudden surge of jealousy flashing through him.

“Anyway,” he hurried on, “next thing, Luke Owen grabbed Alexa’s phone.”

“Hey hey hey,” Luke had crowed. “What have we got here?”

“That’s my phone Luke!” Alexa shrieked. “Give it back now.”

Luke looked closer. Then he scrolled up and Dumi felt his soul shrivel.

“So, Princess Dumi doesn’t like jocks?” he said with a sneer.

“Come on, Luke,” Dumi protested weakly. “It was just something I sent to Alexa, OK?”

“Something for Alexa, hey?” Luke waved her phone in the air. “Dumi’s sending love pics to Alexa. You got a thing for Alexa?”

“No, no.” Dumi was glad his dark skin concealed the heat he could feel rising up his throat and onto his cheeks. “It was just a joke.”

“So that’s what you call a joke, hey? Well Princess Dumi – let’s share the laughter hey?”

“Look, just give it back. OK?”

“Stop being such a douche. It’s just a joke, bru. You said it yourself.” Luke glanced around at his buddies and they all chorused dutifully.

“Yeh dude, stop being a douche.”

“Anyway,” Luke had continued, “that Miss Majola’s a stuck-up bitch.”

Alexa got up from her seat and went and stood at Luke’s desk. She put out her hand. “OK, Luke. You’ve had your fun. My phone please.”

“You want it? Sure,” Luke laughed. “Just give me a second.” His thumb came down on the screen of Alexa’s phone. “OK, have it.” He tossed the phone over to Alexa.

She walked back to her seat. “Shit, Dumi,” she said quietly, her face worried. “He’s shared it.”

“Delete it, Alexa, quick!”

But it was too late. All around the class students were reaching for their phones and looking at their screens.

Most of them grinned, some of them laughed.

“Hey guys, don’t,” Alexa called out. “That’s private.”

But it was no use. Dumi’s artwork was making the rounds of the school.

“So that’s what happened. And you don’t have to tell me how stupid I’ve been. I know. I wish there was something I could do to take it all back. I never thought Luke would share it, Dad. I thought he and his shit-for-brains friends–”

“Dumi,” his father warned.

“I’m sorry, Dad, but that’s what they have. Shit for brains.” Dumi could feel tears coming and he blinked furiously. “I never meant for this to happen, Dad. And now it’s all over Facebook. I’m sorry Mom, Dad.”

“I’m sorry too, son.” His dad really looked worried now. “We’ll have to see what your Principal has to say about all of this tomorrow.”

Dumi went to his bedroom and flopped onto his bed. Luke and his friends were right. He was nothing but a stupid loser.

*****

“Dumi,” his mother’s voice woke him up.

Was it already time for school? He had only just gone to sleep. He had been up all night tossing and turning with worry. Maybe it won’t be so bad, he said to himself. Maybe it will all have blown over in the night. And if Miss Majola has seen the picture, she’ll just laugh at the idea of skinny, wimpy, little, sixteen-year-old Dumi making fun of a guy who looks like he works out morning, noon and night.

His mother’s next words put that hope to rest. “Come along, Dumi. And hurry. The Principal called. He wants to meet before classes start.”

“Before school? But I thought you said you’d meet me at his office at ten?”

“Yes, well,” his mother said, her voice grim, “he says he wants to deal with this before school starts. He says there have been developments in the case.”

“The case?” Dumi repeated the words slowly. So now it was a ‘case’? The Case of Dumi Totobela and the Offensive Artwork.

***

Tell us what you think: Who will be hurt by the spread of this photograph? Do you think Dumi should be punished for it?