Call Me Maybe

I went into *Call Me Maybe* expecting another forgettable rom-com with a meet-cute that hinges on a spilled coffee, but Cara Bastone delivered something far more satisfying: a story that’s messy, human, and unapologetically honest. Quinn isn’t a heroine you root for because she’s perfect—she’s someone you root for *despite* her flaws, which makes her victories feel earned, not handed. The audiobook’s narration is a standout, with Luci Christian’s performance cracking open Quinn’s inner monologue like a piñata full of sharp, funny insights. Her comedic timing is impeccable, especially in scenes where Quinn’s self-sabotage reaches peak absurdity. Neil Hellegers, meanwhile, brings a grounding presence to the male characters, particularly Quinn’s ex, whose voice is so infuriatingly charming you’ll want to scream and hug him simultaneously. The production value is top-notch, with seamless transitions between scenes that mirror the city’s own chaotic rhythm. If I have one critique, it’s that the supporting cast sometimes feels underdeveloped—Quinn’s best friend, for instance, deserves more depth than just being the voice of reason with a side of wine. My other pet peeve? The title. It’s catchy, sure, but it feels like a missed opportunity to lean into the book’s deeper themes of miscommunication and second chances. Still, the audiobook’s strengths far outweigh its minor flaws. It’s the kind of story that lingers like the smell of subway grime on your clothes—you won’t forget it, and you’ll be tempted to relisten the second it ends.