EXTRACT FOR
Miss-taken
(Dianne Herbert)

As soon as I saw the envelope on my desk, I knew it was trouble. I'm not meaning that I'm psychic or anything, just that it was totally out of place and therefore, at the very least, there was going to be a certain amount of hassle dealing with the contents ??" whatever they were.



Brown, A5, and with a piece of tape across the seal making it clear that it had not been tampered with. On opening it, slitting the tape with a nail, I slid out a piece of paper wrapped around some photographs and held in place with an elastic band. The folded A4 paper said 'read me first' in large letters ??" so I slipped off the band, and looked at the pictures instead. I had to hurriedly sit down in my chair before I fell. The classic person in shock symptoms.



Crap. There was a whole stack of them, and I was one of the only two people in the shot. Given that the occasion had been a Christmas party, a few weeks before, that was good going on the part of the cameraman. The other was a random guy that I'd had a snog with under the mistletoe. Flicking through the pictures was a bit like one of those little cartoons that people doodle on the corner of a book. Watching a stick figure walk across the page or something.



This flickering picture was me being felt up by the guy smooching with me. Hand on butt, hand inside the back of my jeans, hand over my boob, hand squeezing my boob, hand creeping under my top, then hand again over my boob ??" but under the clothing this time.



The hell of it was that I couldn't even remember him. I'd had a lot more to drink than usual and had parked myself under the mistletoe. Taking on all-comers for a kiss and a cuddle. A bit of it was the tradition of the thing, but once I'd started there all the guys, and a few of the women, had come over and it became a thing. You know, the thing where the daft drunk girl is kissing everyone so it would be rude not to go ahead and kiss her. That sort of thing.



Why someone had chosen this point in time to show me pictures of an occasion I could barely remember the specifics of, I didn't know. I'd kissed a lot of people, and this one hadn't been anything special. Otherwise I'd have remembered him. Right? I'd not slept with anyone that night, so all he'd got was the chance to play touchy-feely with me for a minute or so until the next person came along to take his place.



I'd needed a seat as, although the pictures in themselves were an unwelcome surprise, there was clearly something malicious going on here. Someone had come into my classroom over lunchtime and left them here. In plain view at the front of the desk, so that it wouldn't get lost amongst the textbooks and coursework sheets I'd placed ready for the afternoon's lessons.



The answers to who, and why, were presumably awaiting me on the sheet I was supposed to have read first, but I was putting off doing what obviously needed to be done. I looked back at the pictures, and counted through them, as I took a second look. A full films worth of 36 showing me and this chap, and one other that I'd not noticed.