Selzer - Extraordinary*: *the true story of my fairygodparent, who almost killed me, and certainly never made me a princess

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
either are the product of the authors imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright 2011 by Adam Selzer
Jacket art copyright 2011 by Mike Heath/Creative Magnus

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by
Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark and the
colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Selzer, Adam.
Extraordinary : the true story of my fairy godparent, who almost killed me, and certainly never made me a princess / Adam Selzer. 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Fourteen-year-old Jennifer sets the record straight after a best-selling book, ostensibly written about her, declares that her life was improved by her fairy godparent, who is actually a creepy, unkempt drunk with greasy hair.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98358-0
[1. SupernaturalFiction. 2. Fairy godmothersFiction. 3. Dating (Social customs)Fiction. 4. VampiresFiction. 5. High schoolsFiction. 6. SchoolsFiction. 7. Family lifeIowaFiction. 8. IowaFiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.S4652Ext 2011
[Fic]dc22
2010046308

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v3.1

To Ronni,

WHO TOLD ME SHE WAS TIRED OF BOOKS ABOUT
GIRLS WHO THOUGHT THEYD DIE IF THEY DIDNT
GO TO THE DANCE. HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!

Thanks to Stephanie and Krista, my fantastic editors.
Also, thanks to Jennifer Laughran, Taryn Fagerness,
Claudia Gray, Kitten McCreery, The Emily and the
Hamster Trainers, James Kennedy, Colleen Fellingham,
Stephanie Kuehnert, and the crews of Sip Coffee
and UPS Store #5428 on Grand Avenue.

Production babies: Maggie Rose and Lola Bel

So all I have to do is get that boy to kiss me at the dance and Ill be a princess?

Jenny drew a sharp breath. The air was filled with the smell of daffodils, and the very stars in the sky seemed to be taking on a purple hue. First shed found out that her naturally purple hair meant she was a fairy, and now she could become a princess, too?

Just let me take out my wand, said her fairy godmother.

Jenny Van Den Berg, you were born to be extraordinary.

from Born to Be Extraordinary, by New York Times bestselling author Eileen Codlin

Eileen Codlin sucks cheese.

And I should know. Im Jennifer Van Den Berg. The real one.

While Eileen is sleeping on mattresses stuffed with money, I get to deal with all the idiots who think Im really a fairy princess and that I can make other girls princesses, too, if they just bug me enough.

And with their moms.

Especially their moms.

Im not a princess. And I dont really want to be one. I believe in democracy, and I think itd be super-awkward to have a servant hanging around me all the time.

But thats only one of a thousand things Eileen changed around for her book to make it more like what readers want to read. That was nice of her, huh?

When she showed me the first draft, I felt sick to my stomach before I finished the first page.

So, I guess youre not going to say it was a true story after all, huh? I asked. This girl isnt anything like me.

She just laughed. I want this book to really connect with teens and tweens, she said, and they probably dont want to be like the real you.

Gee, thanks, Eileen. That just makes me feel super.

If you want to connect with them, stop calling them tweens, I said. Thats the stupidest word ever.

But I know what they want, she said, with that stupid fake smile of hers.

What? I asked. Pure crap?

She just kept on smiling.

But obviously she knew what she was talking about, seeing as how about eleven million people bought the book, and even more saw the movie.

Now, Im not trying to be mean or spoil your fun or anything, but I feel like I need to clear a few things up.

Also, I need some money.

So this is the real story. Exactly as it happened. Ive cleaned up the language in a few places, but thats about it.

First of all, my parents want me to make it very clear that Im not an orphan. Mom got really upset when she read that she got mowed down by a truck when I was four. Dad wasnt too upset when he read that he was a billionaire playboy who didnt even know I existed, but thats way off, too.

My fairy godmother did not smell like daffodils, unless those daffodils were growing in a public restroom that hadnt been cleaned since the early 1980s.

And I know Ive been going around saying that Mutual Scrivener, the nerd who keeps trying to kiss me in the book, is a fictional character, but, well youll see.

And heres fair warning: if its crap you want, well, youre gonna get it. The real story has a lot more unicorn poop in it than the version youve already read. Just, a lot more. Born to Be Extraordinary didnt mention that stuff at all, which is probably just as well, but I cant tell the real story without it.

To be fair, though, Eileen did get some things right.

When the story began, I really was a normal, smart, slightly chubby but totally lovable (most of the time) teenage girl from Iowa.

I do have purple hair (though I wasnt born with it or anythingits dyed). I also have purple clothes, purple walls in my bedroom, and anything else purple that I can get. Im purpliferous. And yes, thats a real word (especially now that its in a book).

And I do have a friend named Amber. Shes really awesome, too.

The guy youve seen in pictures with me isnt really Fred, but Fred was a real guy. He was really a vampire, too.

And the story of my fairy godmother really did start out on a lousy, crappy, soul-sucking, butt-sniffing, very bad day.

Jenny climbed out of her Prius and waved to Melinda Cranstons mom, who was sitting on the porch with Melinda. Melinda was crying already. It was going to be another long piano lesson.

As Jenny walked up the driveway, Melindas little brother threw a pair of dirty underpants out his window, narrowly missing Jennys head.

If only I were a princess, she thought, I wouldnt have to teach piano to these brats just to make my car payments!

I think Jenny must have had a second job holding up convenience stores. Take it from me, you do not earn enough money teaching piano to buy a Prius.

Its true that I taught piano, but my real car, the Jenmobile, was an old powder-blue thing that looked like it couldnt decide whether it was a sedan or a station wagon. I bought it at an auction for two hundred fifty dollars, and I probably overpaid. There were over three hundred thousand miles on the odometer, it had a weird smell that I could never get rid of, and it stalled more than a six-year-old at bedtime.

When it stalled on the way to school that fateful November morning, I patted the dashboard and said, Come on, baby. Its just a few more blocks.

Sometimes that got it to start back up right away. This time it didnt.

It almost always started back up if I just gave it five or ten minutes, but the heater wouldnt come on when the car was stalled, and there was freezing rain coming down that morning. I wasnt about to sit there in the cold, so I put on the flashers, braved the sleet, and ran down Cedar Avenue to McDonalds for a cup of coffee.