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

from the lemon square she had snagged in all the awkward silence and nodded. “Yeah. I mean, you’re a great student council president. You’d be wonderful on this, I’m sure.”
    My jaw hit the ground. Really? Caroline was supporting Ashley for queen? Had she not heard Ashley totally insult her on pageant night?
    â€œGreat. We have one candidate,” I said. “And since this is a democracy, you need an opponent. I nominate Brandi Lyn.”
    Brandi Lyn paled. “Really? Me? Oh my goodness!”
    â€œDon’t you go fainting again, Brandi Lyn. It’s obvious. You’re thrilled about being a Magnolia Maid, and you’re nice to everyone. You should totally do it.”
    Zara raised her hand. “I second it.”
    And with that, swear to God, steam erupted from Ashley’s ears as she realized she had lost every iota of control she ever thought she would have over her Magnolia Court. “Excuse me! Her boyfriend works at EZ Lube!”
    â€œYes, he makes real good money there,” chimed in Brandi Lyn, all enthusiastic.
    â€œI don’t give a damn if he makes a million dollars a minute. He’s a redneck. And so are you. And I will not let you be head of my Court!”
    With that Ashley finally jumped up and down on my last nerve. “See! This is exactly why you should not be queen. It is NOT your Court! It’s ours! You’re pissed that your little BFFs didn’t make it, and now you’re out to make all of us miserable! We’d have to be stupid to put our fate in your hands.”
    â€œYou’d be stupid not to!” Furious, Ashley shot up and got in my face. “My father is willing to donate ten thousand dollars if I get elected queen!”
    I stood my ground. “And how is that any different from you accusing Zara of having her daddy buy her way on to the Court? Could you be more of a hypocrite?”
    We were ready to take it outside—if you can imagine a world where Southern belles are willing to take it outside—when suddenly a sharp clap smacked us back to reality.
    Mizz Upton, a look of appalled anger on her face, stood in the doorway.
    â€œWhat?” I quipped. “Is it lunchtime?”
    Mizz Upton’s voice shook with fury, but she spoke so calmly and quietly, I almost had to lean forward to hear her. “A Magnolia Maid never raises her voice.”
    Ashley smoothed her hair, put that prissy look back on her face, and took a seat. “I am so sorry, Mizz Upton. It’s just that Jane, well, her attitude is so aggressive and unfriendly. It’s got me a little concerned that she may not be a team player.”
    â€œI’m sure it does.” Mizz Upton glared at me. “Jane, could you please conduct yourself in a manner becoming a Magnolia Maid?”
    I snorted. “That’s a question you should ask Ashley. She’s the one trying to play dictator!”
    â€œI am sure Ashley’s just trying to guide the discussion.”
    â€œIf by guide you mean completely and totally dominate.”
    Before Mizz Upton could respond, however, there was a knock at the front door. She moved toward the foyer. “Maids, we simply do not have time for this fracas. We will address it later. Dinah Mae Marshall is here.”
    â€œOh my!” Now Mallory looked like she was going to faint. “Somebody pinch me! It’s time for the dresses !”

Chapter Six
    From the first moment that Dinah Mae Marshall, official seamstress to the Magnolia Court, opened her mouth, I knew I was going to love her. “Lord God, child,” she said to Mallory. “Get your arms off me. I’m no hug baby for you to love on.” All four feet ten inches and eighty pounds of Dinah Mae Marshall struggled to push a fawning Mallory away from her. She looked to be about two hundred and thirty-seven years old, which meant she had been making antebellum dresses since the days of Scarlett O’Hara. Just