The My Beautiful Laundrette Collection

Teenage Dirtbags

Johnny and Omar were immediately friends the first thing they met.
They were only five years old and already conjoined at the hip. They were like bark on a tree.

Johnny was always Omar's friend early on, there wasn't anything that Omar wasn't up to do with him. Play kickball, play tag, read or fly a kite because it didn't matter. They even tried to sneak Omar's mom's Virginia Slims outside. As long as they could be together, it didn't matter what they did.

They grew up, almost like identical twins. Despite the fact that Johnny was a little older by a few months. Also because Omar was Pakistani while Johnny was white: both were born in London. It was in secondary school where Omar realized he was different.
He knew he was but now it was slowly showing its presence.

Little kids don't call you a 'wog' or a 'dirty paki', teenagers and adults do because they're scared and angry behind their awful ignorance.
It was a obstacle that he couldn't overcome, nothing ever looked up.
He didn't discuss it with his parents at first even when they knew it was bound to happen.

Johnny noticed this to, it only angered him because as he reached puberty, he was angry at everything.
He spoke rarely except with Omo.
One day, Johnny had brought Omar home like usual.

His dad was reading the journal at the kitchen table, he peered over the flimsy paper.
"Brought Omar over?" He asked as Johnny nodded and shrugged, playing with the strings on Omar's jacket.
"Careful, Johnny, you'll get mistaken for a queer."

They already knew what it meant and it made Omar incredibly self conscious.
Problem was, Johnny was dating plenty of girls.
He was tall, strong, the 'bad boy' and that meant Omar would third wheel mostly.

Once, on a date that Omar had followed. He was jealous to no end that he spent more time paying attention to some girl 'Brenda' instead of him.
He hated how awkward he always felt when they begun making out on the couch and Omar had to pretend to be really interested in the carpet.

But other than that, they were unlikely friends.
Omar was a short thirteen year old with  curly dark hair with the hand me down sweaters and the obvious brace face while Johnny could pull the hand me down clothing without looking bad.

At that time, Omar envied Johnny's everything, charisma, good nature, looks and attention.
Johnny even offered to help Omar get a date.

"You gotta be yourself, man."
"That's the problem, nobody likes me when I'm being myself." Omar laughed tiredly, scratching out his math answer and rewriting.
Johnny took a look around the dimly lit library. He looked back at Omar's tired face, frowns etched and eyebrows flat.

"That's a lie, Omo, why shouldn't people like you? You're caring, ambitious, determined-"
"It's because I'm a Paki." Omar muttered miserably, avoiding eye contact but failed.

Johnny's eyebrows were flattened as he sighed out slowly. "People don't hate you because you're Pakistani."
"Yeah, they do, it's all cause your kind loves beating down on me." His anger was fuelled by not only his distaste for discrimination but pettiness because Johnny was going on a date with Sue instead of hanging with him.

"My kind? I'm not like that, Omar.." Johnny rested his chin on his hand.
"C'mon man, you know I would never do anything to harm you, y'know."
Omar wanted to argue but he was too damn afraid of saying something he'd regret.
"I have to finish my math.." He mumbled.

Johnny became more conscious about the prejudice Omar went through. He was eating quietly at dinner, wanting to please his friend.
He promised to protect him, he was the tough one at school.
Besides, he was friends with him for such a long time.