NEW YORK — In the debut episode of “NYC Prep,” Bravo’s new water-cooler reality series about the young and rich, two teenagers hang out in a sleek lounge — their after-school version of IHOP.

A debate ensues over the value of the children’s charity Operation Smile, which helps repair the cleft lips and palates of the less fortunate.

“There are so many other things that are going on in the world that need to be addressed before … cleft palate!” sniffs Peter “PC” Peterson to his best friend, Jessie Leavitt, who was planning a fundraiser for the global nonprofit.

Leavitt, exasperated over Peterson’s cluelessness, responds, “Roll your eyes one more time, PC, and I swear to God I’ll slap you in the face.”

Cut to another scene: Peterson, 18, further annoys Leavitt, 17, by tossing a water bottle at her. She storms off in a huff. He calls her a bad word. They make up, like, 30 seconds later.

Welcome to “Prep,” where city kids grow up fast — but still act like kids.

The show offers a glimpse into the lives of wealthy New York teens from various prep schools. They dine at stylish restaurants, charge designer clothes on credit cards and talk bluntly about sex and drugs. Some are so jaded, they could give the “Gossip Girl” clique a run for its money.

With parents’ permission, producers recruited six uptown subjects, ranging in age from 15 to 18: Peterson, the grandson of billionaire financier and philanthropist Pete Peterson; Leavitt, an imposing fashion addict who boasts having a personal shopper at Barneys since she was 13; Kelli Tomashoff, an aspiring singer who lives with her brother on the Upper East Side while her parents stay in the Hamptons; Sebastian Oppenheim, a charmer who tries to hook up with as many girls as possible; Camille Hughes, a high-achieving junior aiming for Harvard; and Taylor DiGiovanni, the lone public school student of the cast, who aims to marry rich.

Executive producer Lenid Rolov, who has worked on MTV’s “The Hills” and Bravo’s “The Real Housewives of New York City,” says he jumped at the chance to produce the show. He grew up working-class in Manhattan and was always drawn to the prep school mystique.

“You see these kids all the time and, to me, they were kind of like storybook characters,” he said. “Because, they kind of looked perfect. You imagine them to have lives that are like a cross between ‘Dynasty’ and ‘Leave It to Beaver.’ But I never got to really interact with them other than what I saw on television.”

The ‘Gossip’ on ‘Prep’

The blogs are buzzing, “Gossip Girl”-style. Recently, Time Out New York’s Web site published a letter from Hughes’ school, Nightingale-Bamford, which criticized “Prep”-style programming as “a skewed version of our world.” In a recent interview, several cast members declined to discuss their schools’ reaction to the show.

“We’re human,” said Leavitt, looking tall — and slightly intimidating — in a black romper and platform wedge heels. “We have been categorized into this rich, spoiled type of group and, you know, we are really hard-working, which kind of sets us apart from maybe a ‘Laguna Beach’ because, I mean, we work really really hard.”

Leavitt means business — she wants to be a fashion publicist — and intends to use this platform to raise her profile. Same with the show’s resident womanizer, Oppenheim. He wants to be a journalist, although he lacks a filter when proclaiming on camera: “Girls like it if you’re an (expletive).”

The perceived glamour, bratty entitlement and over-the-top spending habits of The Young And The Privileged have long been explored in American pop culture and a fascination for those who consume it. From “Pretty in Pink” to “Clueless” to “Gossip Girl,” moneyed youth appear to wield all the power, popularity and seduction techniques.

“We have nothing to do with ‘Gossip Girl,’” says Oppenheim, to which Tomashoff chimes in: “They’re a lot older than us.”

Getting fired up, Leavitt adds: “Yeah, they’re like 25, 24! And people are like, ‘Why don’t they look like the people on “Gossip Girl”?’ We’re 18. Sorry!”