The parts my editor cut

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May I present to you, nationalclothing.org?

We hated them. We didn't really clock the nationalist nature of the thing but we we hated being asked to stand in a big group and sing songs for nobody. It was boring and goofy. Thinking about it now, it really was just our teachers using us as fodder for a Mass Ritual to Prevent 9/11 from Happening Again.

Eventually, some kids developed a sort of game. The ceremony had all these little dramatic pauses between sections of a speech or in-between songs. Kids would wait for those little pauses and, right before the song started, just shout "NINE ELEVEN!" There was a voice for it to. You had to sound kinda like a Patrick Star or a similar exaggerated dunderhead type character.

You tell them! How dare they exclude dad from the wedding!

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She hoped she wasn't blushing too much. The last thing she needed was for Rumi to realize what she'd just been thinking about. Why am I just now remembering that night? Why not when I'm in private?

She cleared her throat. "What, the functionally versus actually part of it?" Rumi nodded. "Well, I'm actually probably closer to bisexual, if you wanna put a label on it. I am attracted to some men, I just..." Mira sneered, thinking of the many infuriating interactions she'd had over the years with the guys she'd been into. "I just can't stand when they open their mouths. Maybe it's just that my taste in guys is so goddamn awful, but every time I saw a guy that I thought was hot and went to go speak with them, they say something fucking stupid, and immediately all of my attraction to them goes out the window."

Rumi tilted her head curiously. "Like…awkward stupid?"

"No, Awkward Stupid is cute. Someone stumbling over their words, or putting their foot in their mouth-as long as they don't say something revealingly offensive-or getting their word order mixed up, all of that? That shit's adorable. Hot even, for some people." She tried not to look directly at Rumi when she said that, afraid she might give away the fact that one of those people was her.

And Zoey, her mind supplied, images of the last time she'd seen her passing through her brain, far more family friendly than the previous memory it'd forced on her.

She continued, "I mean like Gross Stupid. Like this one guy-super hot, had a cute smile, all that, but when I asked him about what he liked to do for fun, he smirked at me and told me he likes 'smashing puss.'" Mira held up her fingers and bent them to perform the air quotes around his answer.

Rumi's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ew, what the fuck?"

"I know! Right?" Mira scoffed. "And that was one of the less awful dudes I've met. I've heard far worse than that." She shook her head, and let out a huff of breath through her nostrils. "Again, don't know if it's just my awful taste in guys, but I just can't seem to find a decent dude I think is hot. So I stopped trying to pursue them altogether.

Rumi nodded, smiling. "So I take it your taste in girls is better, then?"

Mira laughed. "Definitely. I've only come across a couple of Gross Stupid women that I was into as opposed to the entire sea of gross stupid men."

Rumi's smile waned gradually after that. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and her gaze fell back down to her hands, situated on top of the bar.

"What?" Mira asked her.

"What about..." Rumi started, her eyes still down. "What about Awkward Stupid girls? Have you met any of those that you were into?"

Heat grew on Mira's face. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I've...I've met those. Plenty of 'em, in fact."

The other girl nodded slowly. Her head turned back towards Mira, and when they locked eyes, hers were hesitant, but heated. "Have you...met any recently?"

Mira sucked in a breath. Oh. She's flirting with me. "Yeah," she rushed out. "Yeah, I have."

Snippet of what I’ve written so far for Goin’ Round This Roundabout Chapter 3

When your notes make a perfect cat