Peeker

I always peek at the end of books. This has nothing to do with a When Harry Met Sally-like cynicism, but just an uncontrollable desire to just know. Maybe I have to verify that the book actually does end and the characters don't exist. I don't know, but I always peek. I'm a peeker-- I used to sneak down stairs every Christmas Eve just to verify that the presents were, in fact, there. I had to know! What if they weren't? As if my peek-age would affect the outcome of Christmas morning, or the end of a book.
Example 1: I peeked at the end of New Moon when I was about 100 pages in. There was no doubt in my mind that Edward was coming back, but I had to verify, mostly to find out when the ridiculous vapidity of that novel would be over.
Example 2: I'm finishing the last book in a series by Megan McCafferty, which is enjoyable mostly because the main character, Jessica Darling, is the #1 literary character who is most like me- the moodiness, the caustic criticism that is kept mostly within the confines of my head, the rapt attention to popular culture. But anyway, I'm half way through the last book, and I don't really want to know if the two main characters get married, but some nagging pull at the back of my brain, rationalized by just checking to see how many more pages I have, forces me to look at the end of the book. I didn't really see anything, and I don't really know the end, but I still feel like I cheated myself out of something.
I swear... the next book I read I will not look at the end, even to see how many pages it is.

This is a pledge I will probably not keep.