Don't Tell A Soul Read Online Free Page B

savior.”
    â€œTell ’em, Sister Rhoda!” Rochelle cosigns.
    I shake my head with irritation. Why does Rhoda have to build all her stories like this?
    â€œRhoda, what exactly happened?” I ask.
    â€œI turned in the final draft of the Sister to Sister announcement for the Sunday bulletin, and that old evil heffa Lucille said that because I got it in at two sixteen instead of two o’clock, she wasn’t going to be able to accommodate us.”
    â€œLucille is just jealous because we’re selling dinners on Sunday and we know how to cook, unlike her and those raggedy nurses that don’t know the difference between hot water corn bread and Jiffy mix,” Rochelle says.
    Yvonne stares at me, and I stare back. These meetings are a joke. Rhoda and Rochelle are either gossiping or requesting prayers of revenge, and they are the only regular members besides me, Taylor, and Yvonne. Maybe it’s time to end this group and move on to the next ministry.
    Shaquan says, “Y’all have got to be kidding! This is the prayer group that Taylor rants and raves about? This is a mess.”
    â€œSee, Yvonne, I knew once we start letting these hood rats into our meetings that the quality of discussion would decline,” Rhoda says while cutting her eyes at Shaquan.
    Typically, I’m the one that gets everyone back on target—back to the “praise the Lord” place. Back to the “bless the Lord, oh, my soul” place. But right now I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs.
    â€œHood rat?” Shaquan asks. “You know what? I’m gonna let that slide. I am not trying to violate my probation dealing with y’all churchy heffas.”
    Yvonne says, “Rhoda, apologize right now. You’ve run away almost every visitor to our meetings. I’m telling Pastor Brown about this.”
    â€œOh, whatever. I’m sorry, okay? I hope you stay and enjoy yourself in the Lord. Come on, Rochelle. Let’s be out.”
    â€œWhere are we going?” Rochelle asks.
    â€œTo a place where they honor the anointing.”
    Rhoda storms away from the circle of chairs, and Rochelle follows at her heels. I keep wondering when Rochelle is going to grow up and find a friend other than Rhoda. I guess some people are just made to be followers.
    I feel something inside me snap. I think Troy started this. He caused the first crack in my armor before I left the house.
    â€œI’m sick of them,” I announce.
    Yvonne’s and Carmisha’s eyes bulge with shocked expressions. I know they’re not used to me telling it like it is, but that’s the place I am in at this very moment.
    I go on. “And you know what? Carmisha, I’m sick of you, too. Coming to these meetings, always talking about a financial blessing. When are you going to get a job?”
    Yvonne jumps out of her seat and plops down next to me. “Pam . . .”
    â€œNo, I’m serious. McDonald’s and Wal-Mart are both hiring last time I checked.”
    Carmisha looks at the floor. “I . . . I have a special needs child.”
    â€œJust because you took that boy to the doctor for some Ritalin so you could collect a check does not mean he has special needs,” I reply.
    Yvonne locks her hand around my arm and pulls me away from the circle. I open my mouth to say more, but Yvonne whispers in my ear. “No, Pam. Don’t do that.”
    Yvonne continues to pull me until we are outside and standing next to her little black Ford Focus.
    â€œGet in,” Yvonne says.
    â€œI‘m fine, Yvonne. You don’t need to do an intervention.”
    â€œThis is not an intervention, Pam. You’ve got something on your chest, and clearly, you need to get it off. I’m just gonna let you vent. In a safe place.”
    â€œI don’t want—”
    â€œGet. In.”
    Since I know that Yvonne is not going to leave me alone, I get in the car. Yvonne gets in on