And the world stopped spinning

I was sitting in the main courtyard, at one of the metal tables, studying for a Math test on Thursday. My papers were sprawled out across the table, looking like a bookstore had exploded. I didn't care, though.
A light gust of wind blew my hair in my face, and (Annoyingly) sent paper flying. I sighed, getting up and picking them all up, putting them on the table in one pile and using my pencil case as a paper weight. I looked around, checking to see if I'd missed any, and saw one a little out of reach to my right. I was about to get up again when somebody picked it up, looked at it, then walked over to my table, putting it in front of me.
"Studying, huh?" Ben said, smiling.
"Hah, yeah. Thanks, Ben."
"No prob." He didn't say anything else, shifting his weight awkwardly. "So. The term social's comin' up soon..."
"Yep."
"Are... Are you going?"
I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I might."
"Oh. Well, uh, if you do decide on going, do you want a lift? I know you don't have a car yet, so I thought..." He shrugged, looking away. I smiled at him.
"Sure. That'd be nice."
He blinked at me like a deer in the headlights, dumbfounded. "Th-that's a yes, right?" I nodded. "Oh my God! Thank you so much, Max."
I laughed. "No, thank you."
He sat down across from me, asking if I'd like help with my studying. I said yes, so he told me little tips and things that could come in handy. We spent the rest of the break there, working and talking and laughing at his crude jokes. It was kind of nice, having somebody like him to talk to. The bell rang, and we said our good byes before departing to our seperate classes.
I walked into Social Science and took my seat, right before the teacher walked in. She started the class straight up, eithout even taking the roll. She put something up on the projector, and we had to write it all down. Which made me pissed. Because it was like four and a half pages. But anyway.
I was glad to get out of there, my hand feeling like it was going to fall off. I put my books back in my locker, then started making my way home, cutting through the parking lot out front. I saw Fang getting in his black hatchback, and our eyes met for an instant before he turned away. I sighed, then jumped the curb and made my way down the street, pulling out my phone.
I had a message from Ella, telling me she and Mum were going grocery shopping, so I had the house to myself until about six. "Grocery shopping" for them meant "Shopping spree at every shop we can possibly get to before dinner".
I replied to let her know I got the message, then flicked through a few other ones I had, not really bothering to read most of them.
I was nearly home when my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out, checking the message -Ella again, asking if I wanted anything. I told her "Chocolate donuts would be nice. I need sugar", then hit send, watching the little envelope on my screen fly away and the 'message sent' thing pop up. I shoved it back in my pocket and looked up.
Just in time to see a cyclist coming straight at me, not paying attention.
He looked back at me just in time to swerve out of the way, clipping me with something sharp on the side of the handlebars. I cried out, holding my arm where it cut. It was pretty deep, and it hurt like all hell. The man had falling off his bike, looking unharmed but a little dazed.
"Fucking hell, man! Aren't you suppose to ride on the road?!" I yelled at him, and he looked at me, then at the blood gushing from my arm.
"Oh my God! I'm so sorry! Let me call an ambulance or something..." He whipped out his phone, and I put a hand on his wrist, stopping him.
"I don't need a goddamn ambulance. I could friggin' walk to the hospital." I turned and stormed off, feeling really pissed and in uber-pain. The man didn't move for a bit, then crouched down, fixing his bike, because something broke when it it hit me. As it should.
I tore off a bit of my shirt, wrapping around my arm and tying it there. I turned to go down 'the' road, swearing under my breath almost the whole time. I was about half-way when I started to feel a little light headed. I looked at my arm -the blood had seeped right through my makeshift bandage, and was now running down my arm again. I cussed again, putting my other hand up to hold it.
"Max?" I heard someone behind me ask, and I spun around, my hair getting in my face. Dammit, my day kept getting worse.
"Yes, Fang, who else looks like me and walks down this road?" I practically growled at him, and he sighed. Then caught sight of the blood running down my arm, frowning at it.
"What was it this time? Rabid bears?" He asked me, crossing his arms.
"Har har. Try an idiotic cyclist," I said, rolling my eyes. He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head a little to the side, his oh-so-perfect black hair catching the light.
"Want me to drive you to the hospital?" He asked.
"What it is with people and hospitals?! Seriously!" I flung my hands up in frustration, making pain sear through my right arm. I flinched, holding it again. "Oh, ow. Remind me not to do that again." He narrowed his eyes, staring. "What? Don't stare at me like that!"
"Max, you're losing a lot of blood. At least let me get you patched up."
"I don't need any patching!" I thought about the hole in my chest he'd left. "On my arm, at least," I added, glaring. He flinched a little, then walked closer to me.
"Max, take this seriously. It's a pretty bad wound." He put a hand up to take my hand, and I pushed him with my good arm.
"You will not lay a hand on me," I snarled at him, my voice low and as menacing as I could get it.
"Just-"
"No! Just leave, okay?! I don't need you." I spun around on my heel, about to walk away.
"Max. You have to let me-"
"PISS OFF FANG!" I screamed, turning my head to glare at him, then turning it back and storming off again. I did alot of storming. I was a storm with legs.
Fang just stood there, watching me go. I ignored him as I fought back tears of anger and regret. Why was Fang such an ass? Why did he have to piss me off so much? Why did he have to be so perfect and make me tear my heart out?
A wave of dizziness hit, and I gasped, falling to my knees. My head was punding and my vision swam and blurred, the colours and shapes all mixing together in one big mush in my eyeballs. It wavered for a bit, then doubled.
"MAX!" I heard the voice shouting at me, but it sounded faint, distant.
And it was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.