The Known Death Of Literature

(I’m in one 10th Grade English class, while a friend of mine is in another. The classes are assigned books in a different order. I am hanging out at lunch with friends discussing class work.)

Friend: “Ugh, I’m so glad we finally finished [that book]! It was so boring.”

Me: “We’re still reading it, but I don’t think it’s that bad.”

Friend: “You’re weird. It was a stupid story. And [Character #1] and [Character #2] die at the end.”

Me: “What?! I hadn’t finished reading it! Why’d you spoil it?!”

Friend: “Because it’s a stupid book.”

Me: “That doesn’t mean you have to spoil it for people!”

Friend: “Whatever. I thought it was dumb. You shouldn’t get so worked up.”

(I go to English class after lunch, extremely glum.)

Teacher: “[My Name], what’s wrong? You look upset.”

Me: “I was talking to [Friend] at lunch, and she told me the ending to [Book]. I wanted to read what happened for myself.”

Teacher: “What?! I hate it when people spoil books.”

(A week passes.)

Teacher: “[My name], come here.”

Me: “Yes?”

Teacher: “I spoke to your book-spoiling friend. She’s chosen to write me a short essay about [Book], instead of losing points off her final grade for this term.”

Me: “Wait… you’re kidding, right?”

Teacher: “She had absolutely no reason to tell you how the story ended, but she chose to. I can’t stand it when people spoil books, especially to people who love to read them, like you. So from now on, anyone in my class who spoils what happens in a book to someone else will get to choose between writing an essay, or losing points.”

(She made good on her word, too. I never had another book ruined for me. Easily one of the best teachers I’ve ever had!)