Page 113 of The Forever Gift


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The steps are much more awkward than I anticipated and by the second step I’m seriously considering taking Aiden up on his offer to carry me. But I keep going – determined, and by the time we reach the stage I feel like a champion. An exhausted champion, to be fair.

‘And here she is now,’ Mrs Maloney says.

There’s a lot of clapping and wolf whistling as Aiden, Miss Hanlon and I make our way into the centre of the stage to stand beside the principal.

Miss Hanlon lets go and grabs a chair from the side of the stage. Aiden helps me to sit down and it feels super weird to be sitting facing a tonne of people as they all sit facing me.

Aiden turns to walk away and I tug the sleeve of his jumper, just in time to catch him.

‘Don’t leave me,’ I whisper.

‘This is your moment,’ he says.

‘Please,’ I say. ‘I need you.’

‘Okay.’

Aiden stands at one side of me, his face is red like he’s just finished an epic basketball game. I really hope someone takes a picture so I can tease him about this on Snapchat later. Miss Hanlon stands on the other side of me, her hand gently squeezing my shoulder encouragingly every now and then.

‘Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, it is with great pleasure that I announce today’s fundraiser has been an overwhelming successes. Thank you all for your kind support,’ Ms Maloney says.

There’s yet more clapping.

‘Miss Hanlon, if you would be so kind as to pass me the envelope with the tally please?’

Miss Hanlon scurries to the side of the stage, picks up a fancy white envelope and hurries back to give it to Mrs Maloney the way they do at the Oscars. Only I’ve never seen a presenter at the Oscars in a tracksuit or with a whistle dangling around her neck. I try not to laugh thinking about it.

‘Thank you,’ Mrs Maloney says, opening the envelope super, super slowly. ‘And the tally is in, we have raised a whopping two thousand euros today.’

‘Wow,’ I say, genuinely blown away. ‘That’s so cool.’

‘Kayla.’ Ms Maloney turns towards me, and although the microphone still picks up what she’s saying she really is speaking just to me now. ‘We are so incredibly proud of you. Myself, the vice principal, your teachers and all your peers think what you are doing for your mother is just wonderful. And that is why it makes me incredibly happy to say that the entire tally of today’s fundraiser will be donated to the Kayla’s Cakes Help Fund Me page.’

I gasp. I thought the money was for charity. I look at Mam. She’s shaking her head.Oh God. Oh God.This is not how I wanted her to find out. I look at Charlotte. She seems panicked too.Please stop talking, Mrs Maloney. Shh. Shh. Shh.

There’s some whispering on stage behind me and the rattle of trolley wheels. I turn my head over my shoulder to find Roisin Kelly and one of her friends behind me, sniggering. I didn’t notice them come on stage.

‘Thank you, girls,’ Ms Maloney says. ‘You can take your seats again now.’

I look at the trolley the girls have left behind. The school projector is on top. Mrs O’Hagan has moved to the back of the stage to pull down the white screen thingy that they project stuff on. I have no idea what is going on and bubbles of fear pop in my stomach. I look at Aiden, begging him to fill me in but he shrugs and I know he’s totally clueless too.

‘Now, if I just press this button. Um, eh, this one here.’ Mrs Maloney fiddles around with the projector and within a couple of seconds it turns on and shines the school crest onto the screen. ‘Ah ha, there we go,’ she says, excited.

I search the stage for Miss Hanlon and when I find her she’s staring back at me nodding and smiling, as if to say, ‘This is awesome, right?’

This is so not awesome.I need to get off the stage and talk to Mam. I need to explain.

‘Kayla, perhaps you would like to tell us a little bit about your wonderful fund in your own words.’

I shake my head and my eyes glass over as the school crest disappears off the screen and a screenshot of my Help Fund Me page appears in bright in-your-face colour. Magnified until it’s bloody huge.

My name is Kayla Prendergast Doran.

I am fifteen years old and I have a stage four soft tissue cancer.

The doctors call it Ewing’s sarcoma. I call it shit!

This isn’t a Help Fund Me page asking you for money to help me buy expensive treatment. I’ve passed that point. It’s also not a page asking you to feel sorry for me. I don’t want a trip to Disney World. I don’t want to meet my favourite celebrity – although, Zac Efron, if you see this, feel free to drop by the hospital.

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