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Richie shivered, knees drawn close to his chest, hands pressed tightly over his ears, eyes squeezed shut. He could hear all the people talking and moving around from his hiding place under a table, the long tablecloth that reached almost to the floor hiding him from view.
"Hey kiddo, what're you doing under there?" a voice asked.
Richie opened his eyes, seeing an average-looking man in a suit crouched in front of him, holding the tablecloth up and out of the way to get a better look at him. He looked familiar, but Richie couldn't place him.
"Don't talk to me like I'm a little kid," Richie replied reproachfully. He hated being patronised.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. How old are you?"
"Twelve," Richie grumbled, hugging his knees. "Who are you, anyway?" he demanded, sticking his chin out stubbornly.
"My name's Paul. You're Sarah's kid, right? I'm her brother," the man, Paul, explained. "That makes you my niece, I think. Rosa, isn't it?"
"My name's Richie," he growled through gritted teeth. Paul watched as Richie tugged on the short, choppy hair he'd cut himself, much to his parents' displeasure.
"Oh. Okay," Paul replied, mentally readjusting. "Hi there, Richie. Nice to meet you." He held out a hand for Richie to shake. Richie hesitated, then accepted it.
"Do you want to come out from under there?" Paul asked gently.
"No," Richie replied immediately.
"Are you hungry?"
"A little..." Richie looked away awkwardly, not wanting to admit to it.
"I'll be back in a minute, okay?"
"Mkay."
Paul disappeared, letting the tablecloth drop back down to hide him again. Richie fidgeted with the corner of his shirt. He hated big family events, always had. He hated being expected to talk to all these people he barely remembered, hated the expectations on him.
Paul reappeared, setting down a cup of squash and a plate of food in front of him.
"I didn't know what you like, so I tried to get a little bit of everything," Paul told him sheepishly.
Richie wrinkled his nose slightly, suspicious, then picked out a chicken nugget to eat.
"...Thanks."
"If you won't come out from under there, do you mind if I join you?" Paul asked hesitantly.
Richie stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Paul attempted to fold his body up enough to fit under the table too. He grinned at Richie, hiding them both with the tablecloth. Richie tentatively smiled back, picking at the food in front of him.
"I'm not much for big gatherings either," Paul admitted, as though letting him in on a secret. "All the people and noise isn't my thing."
Richie didn't respond, instead sipping the squash Paul had given him.
"What happened to what you were wearing earlier, if you don't mind me asking?" Paul said, glancing at Richie's colourful Pokémon t-shirt and cargo shorts.
Richie thought back to the horrible pink dress his parents had forced him into earlier that day.
"Took it off and hid it in a bush," he replied quietly. "Was itchy and I hated it."
Paul chuckled slightly.
"What's so funny?" Richie demanded, instantly on guard for the risk of patronising adults. He hated being laughed at.
"No, it's just-" Paul said, hesitating. "I imagined how Sarah would react, and it made me laugh at how cross she's going to be."
Richie glared at the cloth, imagining his mother standing and chatting somewhere on the other side.
"Won't be so funny for me," Richie mumbled darkly. He shuddered, not looking forward to how much he was going to get yelled at for this. Again.
"O-oh. Of course. I'm sorry," Paul replied guiltily. He looked closer at Richie, concerned. "I know she can be... intense."
Richie hugged his knees, looking away. He didn't want to see his parents.
"Hey, kid, do you have a phone?" Paul asked.
Richie wordlessly pulled out his Nokia brick.
"Do you want my number? In case you need anything, or are worried about anything. I only live a ten minute walk away from your house," Paul offered, seeming surprised at the words that had just come out of his mouth.
Richie nodded, and Paul showed him his own contact on his iPhone, letting Richie enter it into his contacts. They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
"Are you okay?" Paul asked.
Richie shrugged.
"Will you be alright if I go? I'm not as young as I used to be, I need to stretch my joints," Paul said laughing slightly.
Richie looked at him hesitantly, then nodded.
"See you around, Richie," Paul said, smiling, then disappeared under the tablecloth.
Richie stared in the direction Paul had left for a moment, then pulled a manga novel out of his bag. He wasn't moving anytime soon.