Of all people in the world, she gets the cheerleader? The fucking cheerleader who she tried to kill not even four hours ago? She sighed softly, "I can try," she shifted, "I was shot in the leg," she pointed out, letting her see the bloody bandage covering the wound in her thigh, made with hate from Claire own father, Noah.
She licked her parched lips tasting iron from the blood, "come in," she offered her arm, "I'm losing blood and getting woozy," she been hurt before, Elle knew her limits and was trained to push past them.
Sighing she hopped up, her eyes closed from pain and from blood "Where," she puffed "am I?"