“We’ve got your back, girl,” Jasmine says just before we enter the classroom.

She found me and Shiluva at the toilets, and we filled her in on how that photo came to exist.

Whispers. That’s the first thing I hear when we step into the classroom. Then a giggle, and a hissing sound: “s-s-s-s”.

I can’t face them, can’t meet their eyes, so I stumble to my desk and sink into the chair, slouching to make myself smaller.

“How can she show her face?” Loudly, because I’m intended to hear.

“Well, she’s shown everything else.” Unandi’s voice.

“Shown the whole world by now,” some boy says, and the giggles turn into raucous crowing.

“Shut up and grow up,” another boy says.

I’m so surprised, I look up to see who’s spoken. It’s that Ramano. But he’s on that WhatsApp group, so why is he speaking up like this? Maybe he’s just bored with the whole thing?

Let it be that. Let them all get bored. Let the whole thing be a one-day wonder.

I catch the quiet girl looking at me. It took weeks for anyone to learn her name when she joined the school last year, she’s so silent and serious. She isn’t smiling, or showing disgust; she’s simply looking at me, like she knows or understands something.

Then Mr Lekhuleni enters the class and everyone quietens down. He’s one of those who believe girls can’t be farmers. His eyes find me, and he looks at me like I’m dirty, but in a way that excites him.

I’m cringing, and my heart is beating too hard and fast to be healthy.

“The teachers know. They’ve seen the photo,” I murmur to Shiluva in a panic when Mr Lekhuleni turns away to ask Ramano to open some windows.

Thank God Dambisa isn’t in the same class. I don’t know what I’d do: kill him, or slink away?

“Somehow I never think of older people being on social media,” Shiluva whispers back. “Shit, Lamulile, what about your parents?”

“They don’t do Twitter or any of the other stuff, but anyone could tell them.” I can’t get my panic under control. “And what if my brother sees?”

Let this be one of those times Nathi can’t afford data.

Is this a panic attack? My breathing is fast and fluttery, my hands shake, and my stomach is twisting itself into a knot.

It gets worse. At break, Shiluva and I are standing round the cold, shadowy side of the school to be away from the looks and comments. We think Jasmine is with her boyfriend, but after ten minutes she comes flying up to us. Her eyes are full of tears.

“Why couldn’t you have thought before you took that photo, Lamulile?” She’s upset and angry. “Now I’ve got Frank asking why I can’t be as brave and fun as you, and prove I love him by getting my clothes off.”

“Frank?” My anger rises to match hers. “The same Frank Shabangu who was in that crowd at the gate when I arrived at school. I told you how they were with me, calling me … things. But maybe you’re okay with Frank being part of that?”

He might even have been the one who grabbed my breast or my bum, but I don’t know for sure, so I don’t say it.

Jasmine turns and rushes away. It’s started, the collapse of my life. One friend lost. How long before Shiluva turns against me?

 ***

Tell us: Is it fair of Jasmine to blame Lamulile for Frank putting pressure on her?