And here is Sophie's definition of 'official'.

*Note, this is not a real definition

*Note, too, that this is regarding relationships

of·fi·cial
/əˈfiSHəl/
/a-fish-el/

1. For reals
"I heard Natalie and Paul were official."
"Yeah, they're for reals."

2. Serious
"Natalie and Paul aren't official."
"Yeah, they're not serious."

And that was Sophie's definition for 'official'.

*Note that Sophie prefers the first definition

*Note, too, that she also prefers the first example

~

The next morning, Paul and I 'announced' our relationship to the group.

We were official!

We held hands in the hall and openly smiled at each other. Though, we did agree not to kiss during school and group hangouts.

It was great. Paul was great.

A week later, we updated our social media statuses to 'in a relationship'. I know, cliche, but it's a big step in high school.

We posted pictures with each other but made sure not to do it too much. Little changed, in all honesty.

One day, my friend Sienna came up to me. "I'm so happy for you," she told me."

I smiled and thanked her.

She shrugged. "I just think it's a big deal. I've seen the two of you flirting since freshman year."

I was taken aback. "Flirting?" I asked.

Sienna nodded. "Completely. You two have been so in love with each other for forever that you didn't even notice."

I shook my head, laughing. "Sure," I reluctantly agreed.

Later that day, Adriana congratulated me, too.

"It's all thanks to you," I told her. "Without you, Paul and I probably wouldn't even be talking."

Adriana nodded. "Yeah. I was worried that you guys didn't talk because he continued ignoring you for a while. But I'm glad it all worked out. You two are perfect together."

"Thank you."

All day, various people congratulated us. Even a few teachers did. It was annoying, but it also made me feel good. It made me feel like I made the right choice.

Sophie and Owen, of course, were ecstatic. It turns out that they had been trying to figure out how to get us together for a while. They thought we were the perfect and sweetest couple ever.

But I didn't do this to make these people happy—sure, I was glad that they were glad, but I didn't kiss Paul just to make them smile. I did it for me. I did it for Paul.

I don't think I've ever seen Paul so happy. I know I've never been so happy.

Paul and I hung out every Saturday. It was our day. A day where we didn't have to worry about anyone but ourselves. We watched Netflix, ate snacks, finished homework, gossiped and argued, and complained.

It's the little things that matter.

One Saturday, I remember, Paul and I were starting a new show. The weekend before, we had finished watching all of Paul's favorite horror movies, so we decided it was time for a comedy.

The show was called New Girl. It had romance, comedy, and overall just a really sweet story line. It quickly became one of our favorites.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

We were watching the first episode. We had cuddled under a blanket, and my head rested on his chest. It steadily rose and fell with each breath, and I could hear his heartbeat.

I don't remember what happened in the show, I just remember Paul finding it hilarious. He laughed out loud, his stomach shaking from his enthusiasm. His mouth was wide open as he laughed, his eyes closed and head tilted back.

I remember thinking about how happy he looked. It made me smile. And I laughed. His laugh—his perfect laugh—was contagious. I couldn't help myself.

But that one picture will always be in my mind. Paul's head thrown back in laughter, eyes squeezed shut and stomach rattling. Mouth wide open and smiling, and an overall air of happiness, and joy around him. So carefree, so loving.

Paul had moments of me that I know he'll always remember. His favorite, he says, is a time we went to a water park.

I had just gone down a slide, and Paul was waiting at the bottom for me. His camera was ready to take my first reaction.

As I came barreling out of the slide, he said, my mouth was so wide and he couldn't tell if I was screaming, laughing, or cheering. I fell out of the slide and into the pool below it. I came up, water sliding down my smiling face and stinging my eyes.

Paul took a photo. It shows my grin, my red eyes from the water, my messy and soaked hair...

Paul loved it.

Again, the little moments.

It was our one month anniversary which conveniently landed on a Saturday.

We spent the whole day together. Paul and I went out for brunch. He got me a teddy bear. I got him a watch. He immediately ran to the store to get me two more teddy bears, saying that I couldn't beat him.

We had a relaxing lunch and dinner at his house, afterward snuggling and watching our new favorite show, The Good Doctor. 

An episode finished, and Paul turned to me. I looked up at him. He said nothing. I laughed.

"What're you doing?" I asked.

Paul smiled. "I dunno. I just like your face."

I let out another giggle. "I like yours, too."

"Remember our first kiss?" He asked.

I nodded. "Homecoming."

Paul smiled. "You said I was your 'homecoming hero'. I hope I've lived up to that title."

I giggled. "You certainly have."

Paul leaned down to kiss me, and I happily obliged.

We pulled away, and Paul sighed. "God," he said, "I love you."

Suddenly his features took on those of panic as he realized what he said. We had never said it before.

"I'm so sorry—" he started, but I stopped him by putting my finger to his lips.

"It's alright," I assured him. "I love you, too, Paul." I relished in how the words felt on my tongue, enjoying being able to say it.

Paul smiled. He leaned down to kiss me again.

God, I loved him so much.

And, he truly did love up to his title.

He was my homecoming hero.