She was the one to teach him everything.
First it started off as nothing more than dancing, because he was fourteen and never been kissed; naive and innocent and listening to the writings on the bathroom walls that spoke about how great Cha Cha DiGregorio's jugs were. Danny couldn't quite see it, but she pressed up against him as she taught the dance of her namesake. At some point, her lips find his.
"Zuko baby," she calls him as she traces her lips down his bare chest.
When Danny recounts everything to Kenickie he gets a grin and a smirk.
The pretty girl doesn't last long at Rydell. They have math class together -- when Danny actually shows his face -- and she's one of those girls who wants rebellion but has never been given the chance. Danny shares a cigarette with her under the bleachers, hides his smile when she hacks against the smoke, and presses a sweet kiss to her lips.
"Um," she stammers. "Call me?"
Danny -- asshole that he is -- takes her number to the table where the T-Birds meet up after school and says they're free to call her. He thinks Kenickie might have.
Rizzo is the first time Danny ever gets drunk. Stumbling and nauseous beyond belief, trying to find somewhere he can hurl and then sleep. Rizzo finds him and twists her hand in his hair, whispers something he can't remember, and slides her tongue between his lips.
She's real simple, Rizzo. Doesn't demand attention or even time. She's content to spend the weekend fucking and a few dates here or there where he buys her an ice-cream or burger.
Mostly, Danny has a hard time ignoring the looks Kenickie gives her. He breaks up soon after and lets true love happen.
When it comes down to it, Sandy was just a trial. Running along the beach, sitting with her parents, blushing when Danny so much as smiled at her. It took three weeks to get in a kiss and, hey, Danny wasn't actually complaining about that. At least until he thought about what they'd say back at home, about Danny hadn't gotten any since those months with Rizzo. But he wouldn't push it, was content enough with just kissing and keeping her charmed.
Eventually it fizzles out, just like everything else in life. Sandy was pretty, but she was never right.
Frenchy is a mistake. Not that Danny would ever say it to her face. The final goodbye for the seniors, a belated celebration for winning the race. Frenchy's lips taste overbearing with stawberries and champagne and she giggles a little in the midst of it all. Sandy's huddled in the corner with Patty, ribbon back in her hair and a glass of soda in her hand. Seeing that might lead him to twist his hand a little harder in Frenchy's hair and linger. Just a bit.
It's catching Kenickie's eye that makes him let go. Yeah, he's with Sandy now.
"What do we do now?" Kenickie asks, voice swaying.
Danny flashes him a grin that gets returned. "You could fix up Greased Lightning, keep racing."
A sound that isn't disagreement comes from Kenickie's throat and he takes another swig of beer. Danny watches the move of his lips and then drops his eyes away when they turn upward into a smirk.
"What?" Kenickie asks. His voice sounds clear now.
When Danny looks up again, it's with Kenickie right up close and his brain doesn't get it until after the space between them is closed, then re-opened. Again. A kiss.