Emille, Isis, and Fashion were instant friends from the time they met in Mrs. Paris’s Kindergarten class. Granted they came from different worlds. Emille came from a well-off family consisting of an emotionally absent banker father and a persnickety ex model turned Haute Couture designer mother; Isis was adopted into a financially unstable household where everyone smoked too much, and drank too much; Fashion lived with her bio-dad who was never home most of the time, so Fashion learned to take care of herself early. Fashion, being the oldest, liked to take charge and the girls called her “Mother”.

            Emille 3-ways Isis and Fashion one day in July saying “Ice an’ Fash you two need to get down to Bratz now!”

            “What’s the sitch chicah?” Fashion and Isis say simultaneously.

            “There’s this new waiter here and he’s Cheetahlishous with a capital LISHOUS if you know what I mean chicahs.”

            Within the hour all three girls had made it to the spot the call “Bratz”. Paris-Bratz was a teen club/coffeehouse designed solely for teen 13-16 located west of Central Park.

            “Hi my name’s Garry and I’ll be your waiter today. So, what can I get you ladies?”

            “We’ll have low fat caramel Macchiato with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles,” says Fashion.

            “I’ll get that to you shortly,” Garry says before he walks away.

            “Yeah, and can I get your number?” say Emille.

            “Forget his number. Can I get him covered in whipped cream and chocolate?”

            “Fash, you’re such a freak,” say Isis.

            “Oh, Pulease divahs she ain’t got nothing on all of this,” Quincy McFarrly says as he sits next to Fashion “And he is so not any of your type.”