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  Also by Sheryl Berk and Carrie Berk

  The Cupcake Club Series

  Peace, Love, and Cupcakes

  Recipe for Trouble

  Winner Bakes All

  Icing on the Cake

  Baby Cakes

  Royal Icing

  Sugar and Spice

  Sweet Victory

  Bakers on Board

  Fashion Academy Series

  Fashion Academy

  Runway Ready

  Copyright © 2016 by Sheryl Berk and Carrie Berk

  Cover and internal design © 2016 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover illustrations © Helen Huang

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Jabberwocky, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is on file with the publisher.

  Source of Production: Versa Press, East Peoria, Illinois, USA

  Date of Production: May 2016

  Run Number: 5006620

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1. Team Mickey

  2. Mr. Kaye's Competition

  3. Dueling Designers

  4. Designs à Deux

  5. Frenemies

  6. If at First You Don’t Succeed…

  7. Show-and-Tell

  8. And the Winner Is…

  9. Plan of Attack

  10. Up in the Air

  11. Qu’elle Surprise!

  12. The Ultimate Challenge

  13. Amis pour le Vie

  14. A Scratchy Situation

  15. In the Spotlight

  Carrie’s Style File

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  Back Cover

  To Sabrina Chap, my partner in crime and musicals!

  You will always be a FAB chick in my book.

  —Sheryl

  Mickey Williams burst into the Fashion Academy of Brooklyn (a.k.a. FAB) with only ten minutes to spare before first period. The school bus had been late this morning, and no matter how hard she willed the traffic to move over the Brooklyn Bridge, it had taken forever. As she dashed to her locker, the halls were buzzing with students who couldn’t help but stare at her outfit of the day.

  “Ooh-la-la!” JC exclaimed, noting his BFF’s Eiffel Tower print T-shirt, cancan-inspired tiered ruffle skirt, and purple studded beret. He could always count on Mickey for an early-morning fashion wake-up call.

  “You like?” she asked, giving her ensemble a twirl. She’d paired it with a mismatched pair of combat boots—one purple, one pink. Although she was pressed for time, she was glad she’d run into JC. She had something important to ask him.

  “It’s certainly very Parisian,” JC said. “All you need is a croissant-shaped purse to go with it.”

  Mickey pulled a gold, rectangular-shaped bag out of her backpack. “Baguette,” she said. “I’m one step ahead of you.”

  “So what’s with all the French-ness?” her friend asked.

  By now, JC knew that Mickey’s personal style was a bit over the top. But it rarely had such a strong theme, much less an international one. Mickey loved to clash her colors and patterns and to stripe her hair with colored chalk to match her ensemble. That had earned her a scholarship to FAB this year—and gotten everyone’s attention. And while not everyone embraced her talent for out-of-the-box designs, she and JC had hit it off instantly. He truly appreciated her fierce and fearless fashion attitude.

  “Didn’t you hear about the International Student Runway?” Mickey replied. Mr. Kaye, her Apparel Arts teacher, had made a really big deal out of it and practically insisted that someone from FAB win—or else. Kaye was never kidding when he issued a command in one of his design classes. He was tough. So tough that rumor had it he used his thumb for a pincushion!

  JC raised an eyebrow. “And you wanna win bad. Why?”

  Mickey closed her eyes and sighed. “Because the top FAB team gets to go to Paris Fashion Week and present their designs at the annual FIFI gala. I’ve always dreamed of going to Paris!”

  “FIFI?” JC gasped. “As in the French Institute of the Fashion Industry?”

  Mickey nodded. “Amazing, right?”

  “Amazing—and near to impossible. Every fashion student in the world is probably competing.”

  “I know,” Mickey said. “Which is why I need your help. I’ve never been anywhere out of the country, and I don’t know anything about Paris—except for what I’m wearing. Oh, and those colorful little sandwich cookies.”

  “Macarons,” JC corrected her. “I’ve visited Ladurée in France several times.”

  “You did mention that…several times,” Mickey teased. “Something about staying with your cousin Angelique? Eating crepes and shopping on the Champs-Élysées?”

  JC nodded. “My cuz moved to France a few years ago. She’s very cool—and very fashionable.”

  Mickey sighed. “Do I have to beg?”

  JC’s Chihuahua Madonna made a whimpering noise from inside her dog bag.

  “Can you top that?” JC snickered.

  “JC!”

  “Fine. No begging necessary.”

  “There’s just one little thing before you agree,” Mickey added.

  JC raised his hand to silence her. “Don’t tell me. Does it wear a tiara and have a bad attitude?” Of course, he meant FAB’s resident Designzilla and queen bee, Jade Lee. If there was a prize to be had, an award to be bestowed, Jade thought she deserved it. Her mother was a hugely popular Hollywood fashion designer, and Jade figured that earned her the right to be a star as well.

  Mickey nodded. “Jade is determined to win. She and Jake are partnering up as usual.”

  Jade’s twin brother, Jake, did whatever his sis told him to do—even if it meant trampling his fellow students in the process.

  “You think I’m afraid of the tacky twins?” JC asked. “Pullease. You shouldn’t be either. You can’t cover up boring with bling. And you… Well, you’re one of a kind, Mick.”

  Mickey blushed. “You really think so? How many times has Jade beaten me on fashion challenges? And how many times has she gotten us in trouble with Mr. Kaye?”

  “Too many. Which means she’s running out of options. Besides, I bet you were already working up ideas while Jade was out getting her mani and pedi.”

  “Well, I was thinking of doing a mini collection that draws from the iconic architecture of Paris. The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de
Triomphe…”

  “Love!” JC cheered. “Tell me more!”

  Mickey pulled her sketchbook out of her bag. “It’s all pretty rough, but maybe colors that are muted, like grays and blues and black to match the structures. Metallic silver and bronze studding that looks like rivets. And the shape of this skirt—”

  She showed him a dramatic A-line gown with a corseted back. “This mimics the lines of the Eiffel Tower.”

  “Not bad,” JC said thoughtfully. “Not bad at all.”

  “So it’s a yes?” Mickey asked.

  JC smiled slyly. “Madonna? What do you say to joining Team Mickey?”

  Madonna barked happily.

  “That’s a yes for both for us,” JC said. “Paris Fashion Week, here we come.”

  When Mickey got to her Apparel Arts class, Mr. Kaye was already there, snapping his tape measure to get the class’s attention.

  “Punctuality,” he reminded Mickey as she quickly took her seat. “We have a lot to discuss today.”

  Mickey nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kaye,” she said. “JC and I were just so excited talking about the International Student Runway and Paris.”

  Mr. Kaye gave her outfit the once-over. “So I see. Interesting choices.”

  Jade’s ears suddenly perked up. She was applying lip gloss and quickly tucked her makeup back into her purse. “You and Bowwow Boy are working together? Oh, I’m shaking in my boots!”

  Jake peered under the desk. “But you’re not wearing boots today,” he pointed out. “Those are your platform pumps.”

  Jade scowled. “Duh, I didn’t mean it literally! Clearly I got the brains in this family.”

  Mickey chuckled. “And I’m sure you and Jake will work so well together—since you get along so well.”

  Mr. Kaye held up a hand to silence them. “You may choose to work in teams, but I warn you that often makes things harder, not easier. And watch the cohesion of your collection: all three looks must embody a French theme, yet each piece must be able to stand on its own.”

  Gabriel’s hand shot up. “Mars and I want to team up,” he said. “I’m doing the main outfit, and she’s doing all the accessories.”

  “I have these awesome semiprecious stones that will make the coolest earrings,” Mars added. “I’m thinking shoulder dusters! And I’m hammering copper for the stackable bangles.”

  South sat quietly in her seat, not saying a word.

  “South?” Mr. Kaye asked. “Are you working with anyone?”

  South shook her head. “My dad made a really difficult decision a few years ago to break up with his hip-hop group and become a solo rap artist. I mean, Diddy and Kanye both advised against it, but he stood his ground.”

  Mr. Kaye sighed. “And what does this have to do with your International Student Runway entry?”

  “Nothing. She’s just name-dropping,” Jade said, stifling a yawn. “Like I care.”

  “I’ve decided to go it alone,” South replied, shooting Jade a nasty look. “I’m going to be a solo act like my dad.”

  “That’s cool,” Gabriel assured her. “I mean, it’s easier ’cause there’s no one to boss you around.”

  Mars bristled. “Are you referring to me? Because I am not bossy.”

  “Really? The outfit needs to be bronze to play up your topaz earrings and bronze bracelets? That’s not bossing me around?” Gabriel replied.

  “And now you see the challenge of working together as a team,” Mr. Kaye said, interrupting them. “When two creative minds get together, there are bound to be fireworks. Expect it. Prepare for it. Deal with it.”

  He wrote the word MONDAY on the SMART Board in bold, all-capital, red letters. “That is when your first sketches are due to me.”

  Jade raised her hand. “That’s a week away. Seriously? You want us to come up with a three-piece collection in a week?” She pointed at Jake. “Do you know what I’m dealing with?”

  Mr. Kaye brushed her off. “No excuses. Monday, 9:00 a.m. sharp. I can only send one team of students to Paris.”

  “Or one brilliant student who is going it alone,” South pointed out.

  “Or one individual student,” Mr. Kaye continued. “This competition is extremely important. It has to be the best work you have ever done at FAB.”

  Gabriel scratched his head. “How come? I mean, it’s not your fault if FAB doesn’t wow those fancy French fashion types.”

  Mr. Kaye sighed. “I don’t want to get into it,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “But I will tell you that you are not the only ones worrying. I also have some stiff competition—at FIFI itself.”

  • • •

  Mickey found JC in the cafeteria feeding Madonna scraps of his fish filet under the table.

  “That bad, huh?” she asked, taking a sniff of the food on his tray.

  “Oh, it’s delicious…if you’re a dog,” he said, groaning. “Next time, remind me to go for the vegetarian plate.” Mickey had chosen it: a brightly colored quinoa, cranberry, and squash salad.

  “I guess Aunt Olive is rubbing off on me,” she said, digging in. Her aunt insisted on a meatless home, and Mickey couldn’t argue with her. Not when her aunt had agreed to let her move from Philly and stay with her for the entire school year. Neither Olive nor Mickey’s mom were thrilled with the situation, but Mickey knew she had no other choice. If she wanted to be a fashion designer, FAB was the place to be. And if it meant giving up cheeseburgers and chili dogs—not to mention her home and friends back in Philly—then so be it.

  Her mind had been made up even before she received the acceptance letter for a full scholarship to FAB. Fashion was her passion and the one thing that made her deliriously happy. From the time she was in kindergarten, she’d always had an eye for style. Her Barbies with their custom Mickey Williams couture looks were proof. But as she got older, she wanted to sew more, be more. As she flipped through the pages of Vogue and Elle, admiring page after page of exquisite looks, she thought, My designs will be in here one day.

  And now, she could truly envision herself on that runway during Paris Fashion Week, showing the mini collection she and JC were going to create. She just had to get there.

  “So, Mr. Kaye said something really mysterious in class today,” Mickey shared with JC.

  “And this shocks you? The man is full of surprises. Last week he gave a pop quiz in my History of Zippers class—on Velcro! What does that have to do with zippers?”

  “No, this was really weird,” Mickey insisted. “Like, personal.”

  “Well, what did he say?” JC asked.

  Mickey tried her best to recall the exact words. “Something about having stiff competition himself at FIFI.”

  JC pulled out his laptop and typed in the address for the FIFI website. “Let’s see, shall we?” he said, clicking on various tabs. “Whoa, this place looks intense! Check out the course list: The Mechanics of Macramé? The History of Fashion and Civilization?” He scrolled through the photos of the enormous campus until he arrived at the list of faculty.

  “Interesting…” he said, reading intently.

  “What? What’s interesting?” Mickey tried reading over his shoulder.

  “They have an Apparel Arts teacher at FIFI too. Monsieur Gaston Roget.”

  “Ro-jay,” Mickey repeated.

  “Your French accent…” JC laughed. “We gotta do something about that.”

  “You think this Mr. Roget is Mr. Kaye’s competition?”

  JC shrugged. “I think it’s a good bet.”

  Mickey nodded. “Then that’s it. We can’t lose. We can’t let Mr. Kaye down.” She pulled out her weekly planner and looked over the dates. “If we work every day after school on the sketches, we should have something to show by next Monday.”

  “Whoa, every day? You didn’t mention that when you recruited me,” JC protest
ed. “I have a life, you know.”

  “Really?” Mickey asked. “What were your plans?”

  JC thought hard. “Well, I was going to take Madonna to the groomers tomorrow. And then Desperately Seeking Susan is on TV Thursday night…”

  Mickey shook her head. “JC, this is much more important. We have to convince Mr. Kaye we’re the ones to go to FIFI and present on the international runway.”

  “And what then?” JC asked. “Have you talked to your mom about this? She wasn’t keen on you coming to New York, so what makes you think she’ll let you go to Paris?”

  Mickey gulped. She really hadn’t thought about that. What if her mom freaked out and said no? What if she called Mr. Kaye and told him he had to pick another representative from FAB? It would be mortifying! Mickey quickly pushed the idea out of her head. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she assured JC. “Let’s just win first.”

  “I’m down for it,” JC said. “I’m just saying this could open up a whole other can of worms.”

  Madonna yapped under the table.

  “See, Madonna agrees with me,” JC said.

  “I think Madonna’s still hungry and the can of worms sounded good,” Mickey teased him.

  “Tastier than the lunch here, for sure,” JC tossed back.

  Mickey picked up her bag and deposited her quinoa bowl on JC’s tray. “Better eat up. You’ll need your energy. We’re starting work on our designs right after school.”

  Mickey dumped a mountain of fabric on Aunt Olive’s kitchen table and stood back to admire it.

  “What is all this?” JC asked, confused.

  “Inspiration,” Mickey replied. “Don’t you love all these grays and charcoals and… Ooh! This black velvet I got at the flea market last weekend! It’s an old coat with some rips, but we can cut it up and repurpose it into something amazing.”

  JC tapped a finger to the tip of his nose. “Nope. Not feelin’ it. Looks like a big, hot mess to me.”

  “JC!” Mickey wailed. “Could you at least try to use your imagination?” She held up a sheer scrap of gray chiffon. “Doesn’t this remind you of Paris at night?”