Fr. 11.50

Seeing Cinderella

English · Paperback / Softback

Shipping usually takes at least 4 weeks (title will be specially ordered)

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Informationen zum Autor Jenny Lundquist is the author of  The Charming Life of Izzy Malone ,  Seeing Cinderella , and  Plastic Polly . She grew up in Huntington Beach, California, and earned a degree in Intercultural Studies at Biola University. Jenny has painted an orphanage in Mexico, taught English at a university in Russia, and hopes one day to write a book at a café in Paris. Jenny and her husband live in northern California with their two sons and Rambo, the world’s whiniest cat. Klappentext Callie is not having a good start to her sixth-grade year. Her hair is frizzy, her best friend, Ellen, is acting weird, and she finds out that she needs glasses. And they aren't exactly cute, trendy glasses--they are hideously large and geeky. But Callie soon finds out that they aren't just any glasses--they are magical. And she can read people's thoughts.Seeing Cinderella Chapter 1   Once there was a girl with hair the color of dead leaves, teeth the size of piano keys, freckles as big as polka dots, and eyes that couldn’t see squat. Everyone laughed at her and called her Polka Dot. Poor Polka Dot felt like a total weirdo, and always wished a fairy godmother would appear and cut her some slack. But that was just too darn bad, because fairy godmothers only care about beautiful girls with wicked stepmothers. So when Polka Dot spotted a fairy godmother resting on a park bench, she kept her wish simple and begged for better eyesight. Sweet naive Polka Dot, no one ever told her some fairy godmothers have ginormous attitude issues. “I’m on a coffee break, kid,” said the fairy godmother. “Get yourself some glasses and stop pestering me.” “Could you please stop writing in the car and talk to me?” Mom asked, flicking the turn signal and heading into the left lane. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I answered, putting the finishing touches on my new story, “Polka Dot and the Cranky Fairy Godmother.” “I don’t want glasses. People who wear glasses get made fun of.” “Callie, we’ve been over this already. Your headaches are happening for a reason. It could be that you need glasses. A vision test won’t take that long.” “You’re right, it won’t.” I closed my journal and tucked it under my seat. No way was I showing up to Pacificview Middle School—my new prison, as of tomorrow—with nerd-tastic glasses on my face. With my freckles and crazy-frizzy hair, it would be like painting a target on my face and handing out bows and arrows to the student body. So last night, I’d come up with a plan—a way to make sure I didn’t get stuck wearing glasses, no matter how bad my eyesight was. I shifted in my seat and looked at Mom. “Dad said I should get contacts instead of glasses.” Mom’s lips stretched so thin they practically disappeared. “If your father were around—other than via his cell phone—maybe we could afford contacts. But he’s not.” “Mommy, when’s Daddy coming home?” Sarah, my four-year-old sister, asked from the backseat. Usually when Mom kicked Dad out only a couple of weeks passed before they made up. But he’d been gone for a month already. He was staying with a friend up in northern California until they worked things out. “Mommy’s not sure,” Mom answered. Sarah started singing to herself, and Mom and I were silent. These days it seemed like if we weren’t fighting, we didn’t have much to say to each other. Our conversations were usually limited to arguing about chores or exchanging phone messages. I thought about holding my breath until she asked me something—like how I was feeling about starting seventh grade, or if there were any boys I liked—but I figured I’d pass out first.

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