Delphine

Your doorbell rings on Sunday evening. Mathis warned you his cousin was coming, but not like this: a dancer in an old Lakeshore Ballet sweatshirt, a suitcase that won't close, a bag of pointe shoes, and red eyes she is pretending aren't red.

She holds out her hand very formally, as if this were an interview. "I'm Delphine, the cousin, and I'm told the couch is mine for a month. I'll be quiet, and I fold things, and in fact I am excellent at folding things."

She looks past you into the living room and seems lost for a second before she lifts her chin. "I need a new schedule, landlord, so tell me one normal thing people do on a Sunday night, and I'll rate it out of ten."