Everything else about Imogen was the same. The short motorcycle boots. The faded black T-shirt and the worn red leather jacket. The baggy, ripped-up, baby-blue jeans were still cuffed to her ankles. Her face was still angular and proud. Her skin still deep olive. And her dark, brooding eyes were still dramatically framed with full black eyebrows.

Just no hair on her head.

Daniella was the first to break the silence. “Are you kidding me right now, Azar? Did you hear there was an award for most misguided youth at the store today, or did you just decide to get a fresh summer cut?”

“¿Por qué no los dos?” Imogen gave one of those smiles that looked like she actually wanted to give Daniella the finger but couldn’t, because they were all at work and there would be customers in the store soon.

“Cute,” said Daniella. “Do you always make a joke of the state of your mental health? Because shaving your entire head is like one of the hallmarks of depression, Azar.”

Rinn knew Daniella didn’t intend to be mean. Not mean mean. Daniella was just one of those people who dealt with uncomfortable situations with sarcasm and bitingly direct language. Typically, she used poetic levels of pop-culture-laced sarcasm. But it was still humor-as-a-defense-mechanism. Rinn had grown up in between her father’s Mexican American culture and her mother’s German one. She was used to looking at a thing from all angles before drawing absolute conclusions.

And in general, Rinn had trouble drawing any absolute conclusions.

It’s what made her so nervous, really. That the world was full of shades of gray. That she could see one thing but reality could be another. That she could be in love with AJ and he could maybe want nothing to do with her beyond friendly coworker chatter.

Rinn still didn’t know how Imogen could withstand the level of hostility thrown her way by Daniella, though.

Because rather than getting upset, Imogen just shrugged, somehow unperturbed by both Daniella’s commanding demeanor and all of them staring at her. “I’m not depressed. I’m taking the floor.”

And then she walked off.

Daniella looked like she really was going to throw something at Imogen’s head, regardless of the fact that Imogen was no longer wearing her helmet. Rinn hated being caught between their near-constant power struggles, but she also couldn’t stand by and do nothing.

“Do you need help with inventory?” asked Rinn, honestly wanting to help. “Isn’t that what you said you were about to go do?”

Daniella rolled her eyes. “Stuff it, Olivera. You can’t kiss up to me the way you do Jo.”