by Sarah Watson
Still, there were days that felt impossible and nights when I didn’t think I could keep going. It was during those times that I would sneak around to the side of the building and trace my fingers around the letters of my friends’ names. I always went down the list in alphabetical order. Out of fairness.
Ava Morgan. She’s Dr. Morgan now. She got her PhD in psychology—also from Stanford. She liked the one-on-one work of counseling, and she kept up with her painting, taking her art to a whole new and spectacular level. Ava always thought of herself as the quiet one, but the truth is, the way she expresses herself on the canvas means that her voice is louder than any of ours. A couple of years ago she founded a nonprofit that uses art to help kids work through their trauma.
Jordan Schafer. Jordan did exactly what she always dreamed of doing. She’s a journalist. She covers the political beat at the Washington Post, where she’s destroyed more than a few political careers with her award-winning investigative work. Thankfully she’s promised that she’ll never write anything that will take me down. Unless I do something to deserve it.
Martha Custis. Martha traveled the farthest to be here today. She and her wife have been living overseas ever since Martha’s promotion. Martha knew it was what she wanted from the moment she flew her first combat mission. So in the end, she followed in the footsteps of her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother’s second husband, George, and became a general in the United States Army.
From the podium, the Senate Majority Leader announces that it’s time for me to take the oath of office. I quickly glance back at my friends. They know that they are on camera, so their expressions change only imperceptibly. But it’s enough for me to notice. They are proud of me. I smile back. I’m proud of them too.
Most people still say that it was that speech on the Senate floor that set me on a path to one day become president. Other people point back earlier, to the class I took during my freshman year at Ohio State University, the one that inspired me to volunteer on my first campaign. Or even earlier than that. Back when I was just a wide-eyed kid who believed she could change the world. There are so many moments that led me to this podium today. But if we’re looking for the exact one that started it all, credit goes to Ava for pretty much nailing it in her Stanford essay. Because the most important moment in my life was a warm day in late summer when I met my best friends. If it wasn’t for those three little girls, I would not be the woman standing here today.
The Senate Majority Leader continues her preamble. The words she says are not new. They’ve been said on cold January mornings many times before. I can see them on the teleprompter. It is my great privilege and distinct honor to introduce the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, who will now administer the oath of office.
Now is when she’s supposed to direct everyone to stand. But earlier in the morning, I asked her to make one small change, which she does.
She looks out to the crowd and says, “Will those who are able, please stand.”
Beside me, Wyatt squeezes my hand twice. Then he lets go. He knows I need it back for the part that comes next.
I take a deep breath, I step forward, and I raise my right hand in the air.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a novel always seemed like it would be a solitary endeavor. Until I sat down to write one. This book simply would not be a book without the incredible network of people who read early drafts, helped me with research, talked me down, talked me up, and simply were there for me. In no particular order:
Bob Stevens. Okay, this one actually is in a particular order. You are my best friend, the love of my life, and my biggest supporter. Thank you for telling me I could do it when I didn’t think I could. And for keeping the dog and me both fed during that time.
Kate Testerman at KT Literary. The most incredible literary agent and friend a girl could ask for.
Pam Gruber, Farrin Jacobs, Hannah Milton, and the entire team at Little, Brown. Your thoughtful notes made this book into what it is. Thank you for pushing me. You didn’t just make this a better book. You made me a better writer.
To the people and organizations who helped me with research: Hollywood, Health & Society; the Bay Area Outreach & Recreation Program; Camp Cheerful; and Lieutenant Commander David Daitch.
Kristen and Jonathan Lonner. For letting me ask a million political questions, for making me dinner while you answered them, and for teaching me “rose and thorn.” My “rose” is that I have you in my life. My “thorn” is that we couldn’t figure out a way to save the park. I think it was the right choice. Thank you for helping me see that.
To my early readers and note givers: Lynn Sternberger, Diana Ramirez, and Monica Mitchell. Special thanks to Monica for being my guide to all things Cleveland and for giving me the address to her childhood home so I could drive by like a creeper when I was in town doing research.
Mark Sarvas. An incredible writing instructor and friend. I always knew I wanted to write a novel, but I never knew where to begin. Thank you for showing me the way.
To The Shamers and to my Cluster. You know who you are, and you know that I couldn’t have done this without you.
Javier Grillo-Marxuach. A former boss, a current friend, and a consummate mentor.
Jason Katims. You taught me how to write from the heart. I will always love my Parenthood family.
Josh Hornstock. I owe you my entire career.
Joanna Coles and Holly Whidden. My life and career changed forever when you let me tell your story.
Every strong woman I know has a group email chain with a handful of other strong women who are always at the ready for advice, pep talks, and reality checks. I’m so lucky to have such a group in my life. (Listed in alphabetical order out of fairness.) Amber Benson, Cecil Castellucci, Kate Rorick, Liza Palmer, Margaret Dunlap, and Sarah Kuhn.
To my high school friends. (Also in alphabetical order. And only with maiden names. Because high school.) Anna Soellner, Carey Coffey, Carla Naumburg, Kirsten Handelman, Mara Ashby, Nikki Bramante, and Valerie Kinsey. There are pieces of each of you in these characters.
To The Ripped Bodice. For selling me so many incredible books and for letting me sit in your store for hours while I wrote my own. On that note, thank you to every bookstore, coffee shop, diner, hotel lobby, and Ikea (no, seriously) that provided me with a space to write.
To Stephen Cross. For posting that terrible picture of me from our eighth-grade yearbook on the night of the 2016 election. I’d completely forgotten that I was the girl considered most likely to be president. It meant a lot to me to remember.
And finally, to Jennifer Hansen for forcing me to run one final marathon, and to Allison Alley for agreeing to get dragged along too. (Honorable mention to Jeff Cohen, who logged almost all the miles with us despite the fact that he wasn’t even doing the damn race.) As we ran those miles and talked and talked, an idea popped into my head about a group of friends who push one another to go farther, to dream bigger, and to be their best selves. That idea turned into this book. Thank you.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Watson is the creator of the hit TV series The Bold Type, which the New York Times described as “Sex and the Single Girl for millennials.” Previously she was a writer and executive producer of the critically acclaimed NBC drama Parenthood. She lives in Santa Monica, California. Most Likely is her debut novel.
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