"Like most lesser beings with any sense of self-preservation, germs tend to run in the opposite direction from me," professes Santana. It's only a half truth, anyway; it may not apply to her specifically, but it certainly does for one Sue Sylvester. Besides, a girl can have goals.

Santana lowers herself down to a sandy seat next to Wichita, taking note of the baggie produced by the other girl and lifting a brow. The corners of her mouth follow suit, tilting up in a smirk to match.