Soulseer ✔️ *COMPLETE*

Chapter Four

Cody is a bit of a delicate flower. When I met him he was still pining after some girl who'd dumped him over a year ago. Maybe that's why he was paired with Maggie, our grandmotherly matriarch. I can't imagine Cody being trained by the big, goofy leather bear that is Angus. But he and Joel were perfect for me.

It's super tempting to selfie this rite of passage but Sorren is already stalking towards the entrance under the "Girls! Girls! Girls!" sign so I school my face to a pretence of mild disinterest. I don't know why I bother. My soul is practically hopping. And of course, Sorren holds the door open behind them and gets an eyeful of Skippy Mcskipperson prancing over the back of my head. Whatever. I meet Sorren's mocking grin with the most dignified glance I can manage and lead the way past a lumberjack bouncer inside.

When my friend from group home snuck me into the club her sister danced at for my 17th birthday, it was a sobering experience. That place was a dump. It was slightly damp and smelled of failed dreams and thwarted ambition. I remember thinking that the staff, including the dancers - particularly the dancers - looked like they would as soon spit on you as smile. Most of their souls were sad little limp things, though at that point I still thought the glimmering light filled shadows I could see were products of my "highly creative imagination and early childhood loneliness".

My friend's older sister set me up with a colleague of hers for a discounted lap dance. It was supposed to be the most awesomest birthday present ever. The dancer went by the name of Joy but I think that was aspirational as I saw no evidence of it ever crossing her face. Or her soul for that matter.

Don't get me wrong. Her mouth turned up in the corners and maybe if you couldn't see the mix of despair and rage swirling in her shrunken soul, you'd be fooled into believing she was smiling at you. But no amount of cooing and complimenting my hair and sneakers could make me forget it. The worst part is that she was a smart person. She was 100% aware that I was not picking up what she was putting down.

But there we were, both of us locked into this icky role-play of intimacy and desire all because money had changed hands. The trauma of it kinda soured me on strip clubs. I know, I know. The horror of missing out on such formative experiences.

I pause at the entrance of this club and scan the floor, grinning widely. At my side, Sorren does the same.

This is what an exotic dance venue should look like. It's clean. It even smells clean. I mean there's a hint of competing perfume/cologne, but not enough to gag you. And the people... the people are mostly happy. Happy souls everywhere. Happy, if somewhat inebriated, customers. Happy dancers strutting their stuff. I sigh with contentment. This totally makes up for the shitstorm of the evening leading up to this.

Wait.

How the hell did Cody score this assignment? I get the dumpy dive bar and he gets happy bouncing boobs? That's so unfair.

I spy him sitting at a table on the far side of the club, his skin is so white he almost glows in the dark. And seeing where his full attention is at causes me to again wonder how he scored this place.

Cody sits alone at his table. He is focused - completely and utterly - on the menu of all things. There are three naked women currently flinging themselves around poles within chatting distance of him and he's got his eyes locked on a laminated sheet of paper.

Also, who bothers with a menu in a strip joint?

Sorren and I take a booth nearby to observe unobtrusively. That's when I realize why Cody is poring over the menu like it might hold the secret of life, the universe and everything.

His soul is currently stuck to the desperately deflated soul of the server who slouches at Cody's elbow. Every time she mutters something and starts to leave, Cody gestures her back and asks another question. The music is too loud to hear what he's saying but I can only imagine how ridiculous it must seem to the server who struggles not to roll her eyes each time.