Never Sit Down in a Hoopskirt and Other Things I Learned in Southern Belle Hell by Crickett Rumley Page A

back, I don’t want to lose you again. So will you please promise me you won’t do anything unseemly and get yourself taken away from me again?”
    As established, the last thing in the world I want to be is sweet. Especially with the Magnolia Maids. But it was Grandmother asking. “Okay. I’ll try.” And I meant it. I really did. I really thought, I’ll try to be sweet. To everyone. If only Ashley weren’t such a bitch. If only Mizz Upton weren’t such a pain in the butt. If only… oh, a million and one if-onlys, so little time.
    When Henry dropped me off at Mizz Upton’s house (an appropriately dark and sinister brick Tudor over in the Dauphin District), I found Zara lingering out front. Opportunity number one to be sweet. “Hey, Zara! How in the world did a good Sidwell Friends girl end up in a place like this?”
    Zara swiveled around and cracked a smile. “Sidwell? How did you know?”
    â€œYou moved here from DC, you’re a girl of a certain class and stature. Sidwell. That’s the school for you. Me, I went to Foxcroft.”
    â€œOut in Virginia? That’s a great school.”
    â€œSo I’ve heard. I wasn’t there long enough to find out.”
    â€œYou transferred?”
    â€œNah. Got kicked out.”
    Zara looked at me like I had just told her I was an alien or something. She clearly had no idea how to process this information. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
    â€œDon’t be. If I hadn’t gotten kicked out, I would never have ended up back in Bienville, all Magnolia-fied up, and that would have been a real tragedy, wouldn’t it?”
    Zara caught the twinkle in my eye and grinned again.
    â€œSo seriously, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
    Zara’s grin turned polite and pasty. “Oh, you know, my parents thought it would be a great way for me to meet new people. Get to know the town.”
    â€œCouldn’t you have taken a tour?” I rooted around in my bag for a cough drop to quench the intense desire for a cigarette that standing in front of Mizz Upton’s house had given me.
    â€œWould have been a lot easier.” She laughed. “Oh no. We’ve been busted.” Zara pointed at the bay window of Mizz Upton’s living room, where Brandi Lyn was waving at us with great zest. She disappeared from our view and appeared moments later throwing open the front door and pulling us inside.
    â€œHey, y’all! Guess what we’re talking about?”
    â€œI just couldn’t tell you.”
    â€œDandies! Who is yours going to be?”
    I frowned. “Dandy? As in ‘Yankee Doodle’? ‘Stuck a feather in his cap—’”
    â€œâ€˜And called it macaroni’?” Zara finished my sentence. We raised our fists in a jab, which brought us both to giggles.
    Brandi Lyn joined in the giggling fun. “No, sillies!”
    Zara and I climbed the steps as an icy voice called out from the living room. “She’s talking about escorts.” I recognized that voice. Ashley. She and Mallory were perched like princesses in a couple of wing chairs by the fireplace. They clearly had arrived early enough to assess the layout of the room and establish themselves in the power positions. “Magnolia Maids need age-appropriate male escorts for certain occasions, like charity events and Mardi Gras balls.” Ashley tsked in Mallory’s direction. “See? Didn’t I tell you?”
    Mallory shook her head in deep, agreeing concern. “They don’t know anything.”
    Zara and I flopped down next to Brandi Lyn on a couch so big and puffy that it sucked you in to the point that you’d have to struggle to get out of it. These were the opposite of power seats. I smiled ever so sweetly in Ashley’s direction. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to learn, then, won’t we?”
    Brandi Lyn turned to me