As I fasten my seat belt, I hear: "Adam is watching you."

As I check my speed, I hear: "Adam is watching you."

Before I consume anything that may hinder my ability to drive, I hear: "Adam is watching you."

Whenever I'm driving and I hear my phone ring, I just let it ring. Because I know: "Adam is watching you."

When I see a friend trying to do something that may harm him or her, I hear: "Adam is watching you."

I hear this in memory of my cousin, Adam London. Adam was killed in a single-car crash on the night of August 23. He was 17-years old and a star member of Newton North's lacrosse team, jersey #6.

When I woke up one morning in August and heard Adam had been killed in a single-car crash, my life changed. To hear that one of my relatives—who was only a month older—had his life come to an end was not only a surprise; it was devastating. I was not close to Adam, but the memory of his tragic death now is with me every day.

Since then, I often think, "What if that had been me? How would my family and friends remember me?" I don't like to think about it. No one should have to think about it.

Many people at the funeral knew Adam better than I did—immediate family, peers, teachers and coaches. I heard stories about Adam and his warm personality; how he wanted people to feel comfortable and he wanted friends. Most of all, though, he loved life.

To honor Adam's memory, I am one of thousands who will do our best to keep his spirits alive by signing a promise to Adam.

Even if you did not know Adam, it does not mean you cannot make a promise to him. Many families who have lost a loved one ask for donations in order to remember the person who passed. In this case, all Adam's family asks for is a signature.

A Promise to Adam was initiated shortly after Adam's funeral. Barbara Spivak, Adam's mother, asked each and every one of Adam's friends to go to Newton North High School and sign a pledge promising that they would:

1.) Never to ride in a car without using a seatbelt.

2.) Never to drive too fast, because where I'm going will be there, whether I'm 5 minutes early for fifty minutes late.

3.) Never to drive after drinking, even the smallest amount, because I cannot understand how impaired I may be.

4.) Never to drive after putting anything in my body that my limit my ability to think, understand and react.

5.) Never to text while I drive, because the message is never more important than my life.

6.) Perhaps the hardest of all—stop my friends when they try to do any of the above. Take away their keys, call their parents, call a cab, wrestle them to the ground if necessary. Whatever it takes.

Adam's family wants as many teenagers as possible to promise Adam, regardless of whether they knew him or not. Based on what I have learned about Adam, he would want as many teenagers as possible to sign this, too.

He is watching over us right now, hoping that we will all make good decisions to better our lives and the lives of our community. I suggest that everyone signs this promise because it is something Adam would want. Make a promise to Adam, and assure him that his life will forever be remembered by those who called him a son, brother, cousin, friend or teammate. Maybe you don't fit in one of those categories right now, but if you sign it, you will become a teammate and a friend. Everyone who signs it is a member of the team trying to help a cause.

When you join the team, you will receive a black wristband that identifies your devotion to the team. The band reads: "Remember the Promise" and "R.I.P. London #6." I treat this band as if it is something Adam left me to remember him by. I wear it everyday, knowing that Adam's memory is something I want to keep for as long as I live.

This band is made of silicon. I can stretch it as far as I want, but it will never break. I want it to stay that way. My promise is unbreakable.

You can download a copy of Adam's promise from www.apromisetoadam.org. You can also join the Facebook group dedicated to his memory.