Santana lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Her digital alarm clock read "10:37 a.m." She didn't care; she had already planned to skip school today anyways. She had dreaded this day. She had never been alone on Valentine's Day. Now here she was five months pregnant, her- - whatever he was- her Sam was a thousand miles away. All her friends had plans tonight. It was going to be a lonely Valentine's Day. She rolled out of her bed, pulling the large black tunic she had become accustomed to over her head. She had to go somewhere; she had to get out of this funk. She slid on her coat and started walking. The February air was cool and brisk, despite the bright sunshine. The red flag on the mail box caught her attention as she walked past. She opened the mail box to find a letter addressed to her from Sam. She stuffed it into her bag, and quickly walked to the little coffee shop a few blocks over.
She ordered her small mocha and sat down. She couldn't wait any longer she tore into the envelope, devouring Sam's tiny, messy, script. Santana's heart dropped. It was the same thing as last time; he loved her, missed her, and wished he could be here with her. Letters weren't enough for her anymore. Letters couldn't wrap their arms around her growing belly, feeling the baby kick. Letters couldn't kiss her good morning and tell her she was beautiful. Letters couldn't know this deep feeling she had, being attached to someone else in an extraordinary way.
"Excuse me? Aren't you Santana Lopez?" a strong voice said from behind her.
She pushed the letter into her bag and looked up. "Yes?"
The man was no older than twenty, with dark curly hair, and emerald eyes, flecked with silver. "I'm Garrett. My little sister was in the Regionals show choir competition last year. You sang Valerie?"
Santana nodded. "Where is this going?"
Garrett smiled. "You were amazing. I bought the DVD of the competition, my sister thinks it's for her, but really, I just loved the way you sang. I could listen to it all day."
A blush rose on Santana's cheeks, and she fumbled her words. "I . . . uh . . . mmm . . . thanks."
"Small mocha?" The barista called holding up Santana's drink. Santana stood up to get it, and she saw Garrett's eyes widen at her baby bump.
"Sorry. I should have warned you. This things kind of a mood killer." She said, grabbing her drink.
Garrett smiled. "Not at all, I'm just, I wasn't expecting it. Am I interrupting? Are you meeting your. . . Am I holding up your. . "
Tears welled up in Santana's eyes. She secretly cursed her pregnancy hormones. "He's not around . . . he. . ."
Tears slid down her face, chipping away at what little pride she had left.
"I'm sorry. I can't believe how guys are, I have a daughter myself, and I could never"
"It's not like he's a deadbeat or anything" Santana said, dabbing at her tears, "He had to move."
She sat at the coffee shop with Garrett until early afternoon. He had a two year old daughter, whose mother couldn't handle it and left. He said things that made Santana think he was reading her mind.
"If you ever need to talk, I'll be there. I'm not trying to get in your pants, or"anything, I just know what it's like to feel alone at this vulnerable time." Garrett said before slipping her his phone number and leaving.
Santana grasped the slip of paper tight in her palm. Everything with Garrett today had been strictly platonic, yet she still felt like she was double crossing Sam.
