How to say "I love you" [1]

How much is too much love? All I did was give, and recieved what he gave me. Where did I go wrong? What did I do? How did I let him go...

Sometimes it seems, all I do is ask for things. I knew that I needed to change. The words, "Somethings gotta give" rang in my ears more than once. It took me a while to understand that I needed too. No one seemed to care at the moment. So why did I have to change at that very second?

Because of him.

His name was Adam. Actually, Richard, but I didn't know that at the time. The only way that he knew me was because my brother played basketball with him and all those other types of sports. I never really saw anything in him. All I saw was a tall, sturdy young man that was older than me, stronger than me, and way more self-absorbed than me.

I hadn't thought much of him. He was just one of those guys that you see in Wal-Mart or something like that and say, "Wow, he looks kinda cute," and then think nothing else of him. You don't even remember what he looked like when you get out of the store. But Adam, when I got to know him, he seemed different. Funny, and in his own way smart. He knew all about the way the world works, and knew things that even I didn't know. Adam was cool. I admitt anyway.

Who knew that I would learn the true meaning of "I love you" from him, and not just say those three words.

Chapter 1.

The best thing to do in a situation when you don't know what to say, is to laugh. Or cry, or run. That was sort of my motto. My mom would call my name and ask about something that I was trying to hide from her, and I would do one of the three things. She would shake her head disapproving and thought where maybe she had went wrong. There were tons of places. I hadn't gathered the courage to actually think about it. Besides, I had low self-esteem anyway. Why add to something like that?

When I first went to the basketball courts/tennis courts/football/kickball feild with my brother, I was thinking about working on my tennis swing. I needed to prep my arm. It had been giving up easier every day, and I refused to let that happen this summer. My brother, Spencer, he made fun of it because he was an athletic "god". Self-esteem to go around. I would smirk at him and tell him that I would beat him that weekend.

"Whatever." He said and turned him head to the window again. My mom had long since learned to tune us out. A gift, she calls it.

We got there a little before ten o' clock in the morning. I was way too tired to do anything so I decided to watch my brother play basketball for a while until I decided to wake up. Which would be a while. "Delena!" He shouted when he figured it out that I was following him. "What?" I retored yawning. "Do you have to watch me?" I nodded. End of conversation. He knew not to mess with me when it wasn't noon. There was no way he could win the argument, no matter how good he was at tennis. So I followed him to the court.

Spencer removed his shirt. He always did for his "fans" that may come around. Even though I say that sarcastically, there were a few girls that did. He liked to show off his six-pack. Blegh. I watched from the other side of the court. There was no way I was going to be around those freaks. Always asking me for his number. Made me want to shoot them. Alot.

There was someone new this summer. He had just moved from Ohio, and I had to admitt, when I first saw him, he seemed to be...good-looking. Suddenly, there were difinatly more swooning girls. Gag me Lord, please. But inside, I really wanted to talk to him. I didn't really care after I had gotten used to him and knew his name. All the other boys were okay-looking too. He was just new, thats all. Besides, I was at the tennis court after the game. No time to talk to him anyway.

One day, I saw from afar when I was working on my left hand swing. It was Adam. And Spencer. I caught the ball (a cool thing that Spencer finally taught me) and placed my racket down. "What?" I asked. It was getting a little hot outside, and I was in jeans. There was no need to show off my legs. At all. Adam was quiet, but my brother spoke up, "I just wanted to make sure you wasn't making a fool of yourself." He laughed at his own joke. Adam did too, and I rolled my eyes. Though he was one year older than me, he acted like a five-year old.

"Shut up ass..." I said under my breath as I reached for my racket. My heart didn't beat faster when Adam was around anymore. You sort of get used to him, ya know? But Spencer shouted before I could serve, "Delena! Adam wants to talk to you also!" I heard Adam curse at Spencer as he punched his shoulder. My brother just laughed. It wasn't funny, but I was also glad. Adam...that good-looking basketball player wanted to talk to...me? I placed my racket and ball down and walked over. "Ya know Spencer, you sure get on my nerves. Go give one of those girls your number or something." I could hear Adam chuckle under his breath. Trying to hold my blush, Spencer added, "Ya well, it ain't my fault if you got Adam over here asking where you go after the game."

It shocked me like a bolt. Someone that was two years older than me, had a nice smile and body and was a basketball champion, wanted to know where I was? I really didn't know what to say. Thats when I couldn't do the three things I had relied on so much. So I just stood there. As my brother walked off. Suddenly, I didn't feel so safe anymore. Believe it or not, my brothers jokes about me made me feel like he was there to help me and make me do my best.

What was I gonna say to an athletic god?