A/N: Ficlet one - Sav discovers some dormant feelings while visiting Holly J at work. All italicized words are Sav's thoughts.

One: kindle: arouse, awaken, bestir, incite, stimulate.

Sav couldn't put his finger on what made Holly J stand out all of a sudden. He could admit, without reluctance, that he always enjoyed the view her way, but, then again, any boy at school with a case of insatiable hormones could admit that. He ticked off all the things he already knew about her: she had the poise of a debutante contestant (that went with her winning smile), the wit that could rival anyone twice her age, and a strong, independent air about her that was refreshing among the overwhelming amount of pubescent immaturity that most of their peers were guilty of.

Then there were her flaws, and they were deal breakers for him, really. She had questionable ethical tactics to climb Degrassi's social ladder over the years and she had an endless supply of mean-spirited verbal jabs that were often directed to those she called friends. But, she wasn't thatway anymore…Since spending more time with his VP, Holly J 2.0, which was a nickname he coined much to her chagrin, he was surprised at her kindness, humility, and he couldn't forget that she still had a fire inside her, something he assured her that she possessed all those years ago, that made it impossible for anyone to overshadow her.

He dropped his Little Miss Steaks' chicken strip appetizer by accident when she looked his way, and she smiled warmly as she did so. He took a clumsy bite at the strip for a second attempt, almost missing his mouth as he watched her weave through several tables awaiting her service. Then, like the cold, clammy glass of Pepsi that stimulated his hand's senses when he went to blindly grab it, a thought suddenly jolted him, and it kind of scared him. Although the idea came fleetingly once and again during their meetings for student council, he always managed to wave it off and it never became a full-blown fantasy reel that would keep replaying before his mind's eye. But, it was now, and all he could see was red ribbon, pig tails, and a shorter version of her red-checkered skirt.

Then she gave him another wide grin from across the room. He felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach, something he was sure wasn't attributed to anything he had eaten. He had a feeling it had to do with the way she was smiling at him, because he could feel his stomach do an unmistakeable flip when he grinned back. He took his cold hand and rested it at the side of his face, which had grown warmer and warmer since she left the spot he continued to stare at; he only slightly cooled down.

Yup. The thought was clear now and still terrifying: he most definitely had it bad for one, Miss Holly J Sinclair. Oh. My. Go—Just. For the love of all things Gibson and Fender, do not say anything stupid,he internally warned himself.

The stomach flips followed him to the next school day. He waited by the stairwell that he knew led to the upstairs hallway where her French class was, and he took his time catching up with some casual acquaintances. His responses were non-committal and full of generic replies. Then, his ears suddenly perked up and became selectively in tune with what sounded like Holly J talking to Fiona. He turned to face in her direction, abruptly cutting off what would have been an interesting weekend story's ending, hoping to wave to her in a nonchalant way.

"Hey, hot stuff," he let slip without thinking. Hot stuff? Hot. Stuff. Are you kidding—Smooth.

She looked taken aback for a moment, flushing noticeably. She offered him a weak smile, but she didn't have anything to say. She walked away with Fiona.

It's only been 24 hours since you last lost it,he inwardly chastised himself. New pact: do not cross that line…the friendship one. That means, under no circumstances, are you allowed to stare longingly, write or listen to any stupid, whiny love songs, and do not even think about touch—hold—kissing—urgh—er—anything that friends wouldn't do to other friends. Yeah…you're going to be okay. It's the year of the Sav, remember? Easy peasy. Super simple. Cake. Red ribbon. No. Pig tails. NO! Hiked-up skirt…

"Shit."

to be continued...