Romance tropes, refreshed
Spiral
by Bal Khabra
Toronto: Berkley, 2025
$24.95 / 9780735250468
Reviewed by Jessica Poon
*
In Spiral by Bal Khabra, Elias Westbrook is a rookie NHL player who hasn’t scored a goal yet. He’s also hot and young, which makes him easy to crush on. Ever since he reluctantly agreed to be filmed for a promotional campaign on social media, there’s been seemingly endless speculation about his purported promiscuity and playboy ways.
Enter Sage Beaumont, a ballerina and dancing instructor who wants to be the next Misty Copeland. More than pretty much anything else, Sage wants to join the Nova Ballet Theatre and to be cast in Swan Lake. Unfortunately, without an immense social media following, Sage’s dreams are inaccessible fantasies. Sage is independent, friendless, and also the legal guardian of her younger brother, Sean, who goes to boarding school.
Then there’s Lana, a hardcore fan who lies about being Elias’s fiancée to enter his hotel room. Naturally, the paparazzi inopportunely photographs Elias with her, with nothing more than a towel around his waist. All this coincides with Elias being auctioned for a date. There’s no doubt that Lana will win the auction, which is when Elias’ best friend and teammate, Aiden, enlists Sage to make the winning bid, which Aiden will pay for. She agrees, on the condition of not actually going on a date.
Elias, taking note of Sage’s beauty and pluck, finds himself wanting to date her in actuality, so he does what is logical to do in a romance—he proposes pretending to date her to throw off the paparazzi. In turn, Sage being associated with Elias will give her the social media clout she needs to have any chance of ever starring in Swan Lake.
You can see where this is going and if you don’t, you might want to rewatch Bridgerton.
Any reader remotely familiar with the trope of I’m Only Pretending to Like You will know where this story is going; however, it’s how Khabra delays the inevitable that I was most impressed by. To fend off two attractive people who are—at least to the reader and anyone else—undeniably, irrefutably, obviously attracted to each other, an author has to come up with a plausible explanation. Maybe they’ve been hurt by their previous relationship and don’t want to risk it. Maybe their true paramour is their work. Maybe they were ugly in high school and cannot comprehend that they’re hot now and they’re self-sabotaging from low self-esteem. Or: the plot, with varying credulity, simply requires the attractive person be single despite their crush undoubtedly returning their feelings.
But the reason why Elias, a handsome NHL player with the personality of an Internet boyfriend, is single—was not something I would have predicted. I won’t spoil it here, but I was impressed with Khabra’s creative ingenuity for Elias’ long-time singleness, in stark contrast to his media portrayal.
Although Elias and Sage are both certifiable hotties, they don’t share the same level of wealth. Sage openly disavows courtship (fake or not) involving flowers, but Elias continues to bring her different flowers in the hopes she’ll eventually have a favourite. Part of me thought Elias was being paternalistic with his persistence in bringing flowers. If someone says they don’t want flowers, why not accept that and, I don’t know, give them durable socks instead? The forced, ritualistic aspect of flowers being presented as ideal boyfriend behaviour reminds me uncomfortably of everyone cooing over Bradley Cooper removing Lady Gaga’s make-up—because he wanted her to be authentic (albeit, his idea of authentic). You know, because men know things about women that they don’t even know about themselves.
On the other hand, the less crabby part of me remembers what a difficult life Sage has had. You don’t go from being your little brother’s legal guardian after your drug-addicted parents proved incapable of being remotely parental, replete with a troubled romantic past with a hockey player—that just so happens to become Elias’ new teammate—to becoming the highly photographed girlfriend of an NHL player, without some growing pains.
For the most part, Elias is perfect. He’s not a brainless jock, but a nurturing, talented cook who can seamlessly switch to dirty talk. An emotionally attentive man who can cook is an inescapable romance trope—just enjoy it, because they don’t exist as prolifically in real life. Sage is outwardly tough, which of course means she’s accustomed to rigorously concealing her vulnerability. And, you know, eventually being receptive to flowers. Elias’ whiteness and Sage’s blackness don’t factor into the plot, which normalizes their interracial relationships instead of making it the main plot.
Elias’ friendship with Aiden, who shows no signs of being a horrifically stereotypical straight dude, but rather, someone who is comfortable expressing affection and communicating, is truly lovely, as is Aiden’s girlfriend, Summer, who immediately warms to Sage. More male friendships like these, please. Spiral genuinely celebrates the importance of friendship, while also recognizing the existence of more unconventional familial arrangements.
The ending is pleasingly predictable, but Greater Vancouver Area author Khabra (Collide) gets there with pleasing twists and a redefinition of family. Along the way, expect ludicrous amounts of sexual tension; sex that is, fortuitously enough, not purely focused on penetrative intercourse; and most importantly, two main characters you hope will score—romantically, athletically, and otherwise.
*
Originally from East Vancouver, Jessica Poon is a writer, former line cook, and pianist of dubious merit who recently returned to BC after completing a MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph. [Editor’s note: Jessica Poon recently interviewed Sheung-King, and has reviewed books by Christopher Cheung, Anne Hawk, Pat Dobie, Giana Darling, Umar Turaki, Katrina Kwan, Jane Boon, Terese Svoboda, Maia Caron, Wendy H. Wong, Andromeda Romano-Lax, Sarah Leipciger, Katrina Kwan, Shelley Wood, Richard Kelly Kemick, Elisabeth Eaves, Rajinderpal S. Pal, Keziah Weir, Amber Cowie, Robyn Harding, Roz Nay, Anne Fleming, Miriam Lacroix, Taslim Burkowicz, Sam Wiebe, Amy Mattes, Louis Druehl, Sheung-King, Loghan Paylor, Lisa Moore (ed.), Sandra Kelly, and Robyn Harding for BCR]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors, 2023-26: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
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