writer, occasionally

Today, you had let boredom take the reins and found yourself influenced by a viral trend.

Your boyfriend was one of the most attentive men on the planet. In fact, you’d go as far as to say he was the most attentive. Which meant him forgetting about date night was simply impossible.

If Garrett made a commitment to you, he followed through. Every single time.

Sometimes, it was honestly a little annoying how attentive he could be, because he remembered everything.

The day you first kissed. The first time you said “I love you”. Even the exact moment you stole one of his hoodies and never gave it back.

You weren’t sure if he kept some secret list hidden somewhere or if an entire section of his brain had simply been taken over by thoughts of you, but one thing was certain: if there was a date night planned, Garrett Graham would remember it.

Which was exactly why it would be so funny to convince him he’d forgotten one.

You could already picture the confusion and disbelief on his face. The way he’d rack his brain trying to figure out how he could have possibly let something like that slip his mind.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at your door.

You quickly adjusted the black dress you were wearing—far too formal for the quiet movie night you’d originally planned with Garrett—and crossed the room to answer it.

The second you opened the door, a smile tugged at your lips.

Your boyfriend stood there, bag slung over one shoulder, looking unfairly handsome for someone who had just spent hours getting checked into boards by grown men.

Almost immediately, his brows drew together as his gaze swept over your dress. But before he could ask any questions, you rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

The effect was immediate.

His bag slipped from his shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud as one hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer. He kissed you back without hesitation, already melting into the familiar greeting.

When you finally pulled away, you tilted your head.

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

Garrett blinked, then he looked down at himself. Gray sweatpants and a black hoodie. Standard post-practice attire.

“Uh... yeah?” He said slowly. “Why?”

You arranged your features into the best combination of confusion and disappointment you could manage. “Did you forget?”

His frown deepened as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and shrugging off his hoodie. Beneath it was the black compression shirt he always wore after practice.

A criminal piece of clothing, in your humble opinion.

The fabric stretched across his shoulders and arms far too well, making it significantly harder to stay focused on your prank. For a brief moment, you considered abandoning the whole thing altogether in favour of admiring your boyfriend.

Unfortunately for Garrett, you were committed to the bit.

“Forget what, honey?”

His eyes drifted around your dorm room, taking in details automatically. From the makeup bag spread across your vanity, to the leather jacket draped over your desk chair that looked suspiciously similar to the one currently missing from his closet.

Then his attention returned to you.

“Our date?” You said, tilting your head as if he was the one being ridiculous. Which was especially unfair considering you had invented this entire situation purely for your own entertainment.

You watched him go completely still for a second. 

Then, very slowly, he repeated, “...Our date?”

“Yeah.” You smiled brightly. “I’m really excited. You picked a good spot.”

“I did?”

The uncertainty in his voice nearly made you break. He bent down to grab his phone from his bag before sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah,” you said casually, settling onto your desk chair in front of your makeshift vanity. “You didn’t really forget, did you?”

“No. No...” He shook his head, already scrolling through his phone. “Just checking our reservation.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

“I’m so glad you picked that restaurant. We haven’t been there in forever, and their food is amazing.”

Continuing your performance, you grabbed your mascara and began applying it as if this conversation were completely normal.

Across the room, Garrett was staring at his phone with the concentration of a man trying to defuse a bomb.

“What did you…” He lowered the phone and cleared his throat. “What did you order last time?”

“We ordered a bunch of things to share, remember?”

He hummed, the sound coming out noticeably higher-pitched than usual.

To be fair, it wasn’t an incredibly descriptive answer. Garrett’s appetite was enormous thanks to hockey, and you could never decide what looked best on a menu. Most date nights ended with the two of you ordering half the restaurant and splitting everything between yourselves.

Still, you could practically see him filing the information away, desperately trying to determine whether this was a real memory he’d somehow lost or one you were creating in real time. 

“You’ve been looking forward to this for a while, huh?”

“Mhm.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Do you remember the last time we went?”

“Not really, no.” You unscrewed your lip gloss and began applying it. “But it’s been a while.”

“Huh.” A few seconds passed, then he asked, “And I can’t wear what I’m wearing right now?”

“Garrett, you planned this date.” You turned in your chair to look at him. “You specifically told me to dress semi-formal.”

“Yeah, obviously. I know.” The immediate response was reassuring, but the lingering frown wasn’t. “Just checking,” he added quickly. “Keeping you on your toes and all that.”

You stared at him and he stared right back, attempting what was perhaps the worst act of confidence you'd ever seen.

“Sure…” you said slowly, fighting to keep a laugh from escaping.

Garrett nodded once, as if he’d successfully recovered the situation, immediately grabbing his phone again. Apparently, whatever fictional reservation he was searching for had yet to reveal itself.

“Are you excited?” You asked innocently. “Because from where I’m sitting, you don’t exactly look excited for our date night.”

His head snapped up. 

“What? I’m so excited.”

Before you could respond, he pushed himself off the bed and crossed the room, coming to stand behind your chair.

“Honey,” he said, resting his hands on your shoulders, “This is going to be the best date of your life.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” The answer came in the most ‘duh’ tone imaginable.

As if the very suggestion that he wouldn't be excited to take you on a date was completely absurd. As if he hadn’t spent the last ten minutes conducting a full-scale investigation into a restaurant that didn't exist.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

At that point, you decided it was probably best to abandon the prank before things escalated any further. Because now Garrett Graham had something to prove.

And knowing your boyfriend, that was a dangerous thing.

Another five minutes and he’d probably be making dinner reservations, buying flowers, and somehow chartering a helicopter just to demonstrate that he was, in fact, capable of pulling off the best date night of your life on a moment's notice.

“It's just…” You rose from your chair and turned to face him, leaving only a few inches between you. Tilting your head back, you met his gaze. “How can you be excited for a date that doesn't exist?”

For a second, Garrett simply stared at you, and then you watched the realization hit in real time. Confusion flashed across his face first, followed quickly by suspicion, before finally settling into understanding as all the pieces clicked into place and he realized exactly what you’d been doing.

His eyes narrowed at the burst of laughter that spilled from your lips.

“Baby, there’s no date,” you admitted, burying your face against his chest as you wrapped your arms around his waist. Looking up at him, you were immediately met with the most offended expression you’d ever seen on your boyfriend.

His mouth opened, then closed again as he searched for a response. For a moment, it looked like he was about to launch into an argument, but instead he simply shook his head, pulled you closer, and wrapped his arms around you.

“There can be, though.”

Another laugh escaped you.

“It’s okay. It was just a prank.”

“Yeah, but you’re already dressed up for that fake date, so…”

“So?” You prompted.

“I’m taking you out.”

You blinked. “Oh, really?”

“Yup.” 

The answer came without a second of hesitation. Still holding onto you with one arm, he reached over and grabbed the leather jacket hanging from your chair, along with his bag.

“Let’s go,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’ll stop by my place so I can change, and then we can go to that place you’ve been wanting to try.”

You huffed out a laugh.

“There is no place, Garrett.”

“Then make one up.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and pointed at you. “You’re the one who invented an entire date night. Surely you can invent a restaurant, too.”

You laughed again as he reached for your hand.

Somehow, despite being the one who’d gotten pranked, your boyfriend had still found a way to turn it into an actual date.

Which, admittedly, was a very Garrett Graham thing to do.