The End of the Line

By Ada Stone

Cass was once an idealistic young woman hoping to change the world by becoming a social worker. Now, a handful of years later, she owns a bar in the-middle-of-nowhere, Washington. Though on its face, The End of the Line may look like just another dive bar, its operations are actually quite unique, working as a continuation of Cass’s aspirations for change rather than a slow descent into apathy. Inspired by some of her past trauma and aided by time spent in an alternative learning community, Cass creates The End of the Line as a practice space for establishing and respecting boundaries, particularly in erotic and romantic encounters. With an unexpected business partner doing the dirty work behind the scenes, Cass tends the bar and monitors the room for teaching opportunities, such as with new patrons Emma and Justin. Her motivations, however, are not entirely altruistic; Cass is also hoping that her bar will help her meet someone who can bring romance back into her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Jun 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781094410883

Ada Stone

Ada Stone is a queer and trans book-obsessed human from the Pacific Northwest, where they live now. They love spending quiet time among trees and mountains, listening to their favorite albums on repeat, and receiving “your holds are ready for pickup” alerts from the library.

Book preview

The End of the Line

Prologue

Justin watches the bartender float by, observing the way the hairs of her growing buzzcut haphazardly jut out over her ears. He’s been thinking a lot about it over the past fifteen minutes. He’s decided his temptation to stare at Cass doesn’t come from sexual attraction, but from a more innocent curiosity. How did she become the badass bar owner that now stands in front of him? He’s just beginning to brainstorm hypothetical origin stories when he senses Cass is about to turn his way. He averts his eyes just in time, taking another sip of his Pilsner and trying to act natural.

From the corner of Justin’s right eye a flash of light signals the opening of the bar’s front door. It’s always dim inside The End of the Line, only these small glimpses of the outside world give any indication of the passing of time. Or that’s how it feels to Justin, at least. He has to check his watch, not only for the time (7:30 p.m.), but for a reminder that it’s July. Of course, now that he thinks about it, the sun could only be so bright at this hour in mid-summer.

Though ideally he would mind his own business, Justin can’t help but turn his head toward the entrance. He starts at what he sees, his hand knocking against the side of his glass, causing it to wobble dangerously atop its coaster. Justin steadies his drink before turning back in the direction of the new arrival. To his surprise, they are walking straight toward him.

Justin, Emma nods, looking neither happy nor angry.

Hi, Emma, Justin nods back. Haven’t seen you around in a while.

Yeah, well, they say, busy trying to make eye contact with Cass, I was doing some personal work, I guess you could say. Their gaze again lands on Justin.

Before Justin can respond, Cass is in front of them. What can I getcha, Emma? The usual?

You still remember, huh? They pause to think. I guess it feels longer than it’s really been. Anyway, no thanks. I think I’ll have a Jack and Coke today.

And another for you? Cass turns to Justin.

He looks down at his almost-empty glass and thinks for a beat. Sure.

Alright, that’s your second and final bev, Cass reminds Justin, as if he isn’t already familiar with the rules. She traipses away to pour their drinks.

You wanna sit? Justin gestures to the empty stool next to him.

Nah, Emma holds eye contact this time. Think I’m just gonna head over to a booth. But thanks. That last added as an afterthought.

Cass returns with their drinks and Emma hands over a five, plus a single to boost the tip. Justin gets back his credit card and receipt. He signs to officially close the tab. Well, Emma says, twisting their drink in both hands. To growing and changing? They raise their glass, Justin does the same.

To growing and changing, he affirms just before their glasses clink. They both sip. Before the beer can even settle in Justin’s belly, Emma is walking away.

Chapter One

It’s finally been spring long enough that Justin is struggling to remember how the town looks in its wintry snow-covered state. As a native Louisianan, Justin is relieved to banish the possibility of snow from his mind, at least for a few months. Though it had been his own choice to move to the most out-of-the-way, opposite-of-New-Orleans place he could identify, Justin can’t help missing the nightlife from time to time. So he was certainly excited to hear about the opening of a new bar just a few blocks across Main Street.

According to the online map, the bar is just a mile from the house Justin shares with another twenty-something renter. It’s a sunny, albeit cool, evening. He squints from under the brim of his hat, pulling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt to soak in the rays. Down the street he spots the front of what he knows from the local paper’s article to be the former site of a decrepit saloon. Nearing the bar, Justin can see that the wood has been refinished, the door and windows replaced. Above the overhang of the front porch, black letters read: The End of the Line. Maybe a reference to a railroad that once ran through here? He can’t remember any mention of such a thing in the newspaper article. He’ll have to ask his roommate later.

Justin pulls on the front door, finding it surprisingly easy to open. Inside, the room is so dim he has to stand in the entryway for a few moments while his eyes adjust. Finally, he makes out the bar on the right side of the long, narrow room. A thin murmur of conversation coats the half-full space. Tucking his hat under his arm, Justin crosses the wood-slatted floor and claims an empty bar stool. A tall and sturdy woman is working behind the bar, her dark brown hair freshly buzzed down to a fraction of an inch. As he waits for his chance to order his usual Light, Justin spots a menu of on-tap microbrews on the wall to his right. When he turns his eyes back to the bartender, she finally looks his way and strides over.

She raises an eyebrow, wordlessly prompting Justin’s order. I’ll try your saison, he says. The bartender nods and turns, expertly flipping a pint glass from one hand to the other and flicking the tap open. She holds the glass at an angle, letting most of the foam slough off over the rim before switching the flow off.

Here ya go, the bartender says, uttering her first words to Justin with a surprisingly friendly tone as she sets the glass atop a plain black coaster.

Thanks, Justin hands over his credit card. "Go ahead and keep it