Sarah Adams’ “The Cheat Sheet” was supposed to be a swoon-worthy, friends-to-lovers romance that warms your heart. But it ended up being the most cringe-worthy, frustrating book I have ever read. Reading it felt like a bad joke where the punchline was the plot itself. Imagine a rom-com where the characters spend 90% of the time pretending they’re in middle school and the other 10% ignoring every social cue. Yep, that’s the entire book.
Bree Camden is a broke ballet instructor hopelessly in love with her best friend, Nathan Donelson, a famous professional football player. After spilling her guts in an interview, Bree and Nathan sign a fake-dating contract that expires on the Super Bowl. The book revolves around Bree and Nathan dancing past their feelings while trying to keep their “perfect” friendship in balance—but still wanting the other person to fall in love with them.
My older sister recommended this book, so I was really excited to start it. She said it’s perfect for me because of its classic rom-com tropes: friends-to-lovers, dual POV, fake dating and slow burn. But by the time I was halfway through, I was disappointed and irritated with everything this book had to offer.
Let’s start with Bree Camden, our heroine who manages to press all my buttons. How can she miss that Nathan is head-over-heels in love with her? The man could skywrite his feelings and Bree’s response? “Oh, he’s probably just being nice.” Her obliviousness is so exaggerated; It’s the kind of cluelessness that has me rolling my eyes because it’s just not plausible. He literally admits to her that he’s flirting, and she brushes it off as quickly as possible.
Then there’s the fact that Bree is ground zero for pick-me girls. Bree constantly tells Nathan’s girlfriends that he will pick her if he is forced to choose between them. Why are you saying this to anyone, especially someone who hasn’t done anything to you? Not to mention the way she describes how she and Nathan first met: “He saw me in my scuffed-up sneakers, curly hair piled on my head in the grossest bun anyone has ever seen, and he stopped running.” If someone told me this came from a 2013 Wattpad story, I would have believed it.
Also, Bree’s moral code was more annoying than admirable. She refuses to take money from Nathan, who is literally rolling in cash. Seriously, he’s an NFL quarterback who lives in an apartment “the size of five apartments” and buys Bree 15 different dresses to try on for one event. Yet Bree insists on being “independent” in the most irritating way possible. She’s broke—her studio is one missed payment away from shutting down, and her apartment is described with “moldy walls” and an unidentifiable smell from before she moved in. But no, Bree won’t accept money from the multi-millionaire when she is in a constant financial crisis. Obviously, I know it’s wrong just to let someone pay for everything with no compensation, but with Bree’s situation, it’s just ridiculous.
If you thought Bree was annoying, just wait until you get to the plot. Let’s start with the book’s most significant slip-up: the love story timeline. This is a friend-to-lovers, so I expected maybe one of the characters to already be in love with the other, but I was so very wrong. Spoiler alert: both Bree and Nathan are in love with each other. And guess when we find this out? Chapter one! The second it was “revealed,” I knew this book was doomed. All the tension, build-up, and suspense of watching two characters gradually fall in love that really makes up a good slow burn is ruined before you even get comfortable. Whoever labeled this as a slow burn is a moron. The whole “will-they-won’t-they” is dead on arrival, and that’s where my frustration began because I felt like I was stuck waiting for them to catch up with what’s already painfully obvious.
By the second half, I wanted to quit. I really did. At this point, Bree and Nathan have fake-dated for about two or three weeks, and they just randomly start questioning their feelings for each other. Wasn’t it already established that they were madly in love? It’s so out of left field and feels forced. It’s as if the author ran out of ideas to move the plot forward. Do you mean to tell me that after six years of being hopelessly in love with the other, they question their feelings that quickly into dating? And then, after weeks of dragging their feet, Bree and Nathan decide to get married after a week of actual dating. I’m sorry, what? Who does that? It’s like the author got bored and just decided to wrap things up with the most ridiculous plot twist possible. “Oh, they’re getting married now because… why not?” I don’t care if you’ve been best friends for your whole life; you still have to date before saying your vows. This isn’t love; it’s a speed run to the altar.
But all of these problems take second place to the writing. I hate the writing. The book tries so hard to be quirky and charming that it trips over its own feet. The internal dialogue is some of the cringiest work I’ve ever read. Our first impression of the main character is “ATTENTION ALL SEXY QUARTERBACKS! COVER YOUR GOODS! A GREEDY-EYED WOMAN IS IN THE HOUSE!”…This is on page one. I stared at this for a solid three minutes, questioning what I was about to get into. But that was just the first offense. All of the characters act this way. I’m supposed to believe these characters are in their mid-twenties when they act like middle schoolers. “I did the one thing I knew would help him relax: contorted my face like a ding-dong and stuck my tongue out the side of my mouth.”
It’s safe to say it will take me a few days to recover from this book. I’m rating this book two out of five stars and that’s being generous. If you’re looking for a laugh—whether at the book or with it—” The Cheat Sheet” might be worth a read. But if you’re after an emotionally mature, well-developed romance, do yourself a favor and keep searching. It will be more worth your time to read something like “Better Than the Movies.”
