I try to follow their logic. “So Maximoff smells like summer. I smell like spring.” Where is this going? Sulli nods. “And Farrow has white fucking hair. And Thatcher always wears those plaid flannels like he’s about to chop some wood in the forest.” Uh-oh. Luna beams. “Farrow is winter. Thatcher is fall. Which makes the four of you the Seasons.” She claps her hands accidently. “You have your own friendship name. We do our best.” She pounds a fist with Sulli.
