"Under Ontario Skies by Chiara Malwana is an incredible story. Its characters and their backstories are very contemporary and relatable." - tessahathaway4

"A good start with a compelling plot. I loved how the chapters swayed with emotions." - MichelleManisha

"A riveting teen romance that grips you from the first chapter!" – Madi Lalor, Wattpad Star and author of The Way We Were Before.

"Under Ontario Skies is a cute contemporary romance with some devastating twists. Pres and Deon are definitely worth rooting for!" - Elizabeth A. Seibert, Wattpad Star and author of The Bro Code.

"Irresistible, captivating and enticing! I immediately was hooked! This book keeps you immersed from the first page. Worth the read!" - Janine Hernandez, founder of The Book Publishing Academy and #1 Amazon Best Selling Author.

Blurb

Presley Jones is recovering from losing her family from a car crash. Deon Martinez moves to Ontario for a fresh start. What happens when the two meet?

Summary

Elvie Presley Jones, who goes by the name 'Presley', is a senior at Westbeach High. She is teamed up with the new boy in the school band, Deon Martinez, who has just moved to Ontario from Nashville. The two have to work together on a song for the annual Winter Musical, a big music competition for schools in the Ontario region. As they get to know each other, feelings start growing between them. While Presley's best friend encourages them to be together, a girl from school tries to get between them and sabotage their audition for the Winter Musical. Her attempts fail, and Presley and Deon go on to perform at the competition.

And they live happily ever after...or do they?

* * *

Presley

What would you do if three years ago, your mom, dad, and sister, the only family you had, died, and today was their death anniversary?

It's the end of mid-winter break, and I'm packing my bag to go back to school tomorrow.

Sometimes I imagine what life with my mom, dad, and sister would feel like. They died in a car crash three years ago. It's not as hard to deal with as it was then, but I still feel a dull ache in my chest. I've cried myself to sleep every night for an entire year, and sometimes even woken up in the middle of the night with tears streaming down my face and my throat sore from crying.

The only family I have left are my mom's parents, Gramma Jennet, Grandpa Leonard, and my cousins from my dad's side, Luke and Caleb. I've been living with my grandparents in Westbeach, Ontario since I was fifteen.

I thought my holiday would be crappy, as it usually tends to be, but surprisingly, it surpassed my expectations. I spent a lot of quality time with my grandparents, babysat my neighbor's kid and even went to church sometimes. I also played golf with Grandpa, which was unexpectedly pleasant, even though I once cringed at the idea.

"Presley, sweetheart. Come downstairs for dinner," Gramma calls from downstairs.

"Coming, Gramma!" I call back.

I turn to leave my room, but my eyes land on the family pictures I've hung all over the lemonade-pink walls of my room. I'm unable to stop my eyes from fixating on the one right above the headboard of my bed— this is the last picture we took before they died. Mom, Dad, Kiara and I are grinning happily at the camera after a skiing trip. That was the most fun I'd ever had in my life.

I smile at the sweet memory even though I feel a slight ache in my chest, but I'm comforted by the thought that they are always in my heart.

I go downstairs to find that Gramma and Grandpa are already seated at the dining table. Gramma wipes away at her teary eyes just as she sees me. Her usual neat grey hair is tied up in a messy bun.

Today's Kiki's birthday.

At the crack of dawn today I sneaked out of my house and took a bus to my hometown, Leigh Falls, which is an hour away, to visit my sister's grave. If I had told my grandparents or best friend about my little field trip, they would have wanted to join me, but I needed to go by myself to wish my sister a happy birthday. Luckily, my grandparents were still asleep when I got home.

"Presley, you should have come for the evening mass today. Father Cortéz shared a beautiful homily," Gramma says as I take a seat at the dining table.

"I'm sorry, Gramma," I say. "I wasn't really feeling up to it today."

"That's alright, sweetheart. Just remember that God loves you no matter what." Gramma smiles at me through glistening eyes.

"I know." I give her a small smile.

Grandpa says, "Presley, we need to talk about the money and properties your mom and dad left for you and Ki—" He pauses, and despite his tough exterior I see a flicker of sadness in his eyes.

I just nod, not acknowledging the pain we all felt.

A couple of years before my parents died, their property and funds were divided between me and Kiki. They had appointed Mom's parents as our trustees in case of an emergency. After my parents died, the ownership of their property and money was passed over to Gramma and Grandpa. They were to hold onto them until Kiki and I turned eighteen. after which the two of us would become the owners. But since I'm the only one left, everything will be signed to me when I turn eighteen this year.

"Erm, let's just talk when you're ready, sweetheart," Grandpa continues.

"Okay," I say softly and no one speaks again for the rest of dinner.

Today is Grandpa's turn to clean up so I gather all the plates on the table and take them to our newly decorated kitchen. Its old tattered walls have now been replaced with a very homey-looking yellow floral wallpaper which I personally disapprove of. It's a sad looking color. But Gramma and Grandpa loved it, so I didn't tell them this. It is their house after all.

"It's alright, Presley. You didn't have to do that," Grandpa grins, taking the plates from me. "You should go get some sleep. Don't you have band practice in the morning?"

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot." I grab a KitKat from the fridge and head upstairs as I call, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Presley," Gramma and Grandpa say in unison.

How could I have forgotten that I have band practice in the morning? It's one of two reasons I chose to go to Westbeach High. The teacher in charge of the band, Mrs. Davis, is one of the best trainers in this part of Ontario. The other reason is that despite being a private school, the tuition fees here are affordable; not too crazy.

I joined the band on my very first day at Westbeach High. I found an immediate interest in the saxophone, so Mrs. Davis decided to train me to play it. She is the sweetest and the kindest teacher I know.

The sound of 'Best Friend' by Saweetie fills my ears as I enter my room. The ringtone was picked by none other than my best friend of course. I find my old iPhone beneath my bed covers and swipe my finger across the screen to answer, already knowing who it is.

"Elvis Presley!" Maddy, the only person who calls me that screams down the line. When I was born, my parents impulsively named me 'Elvie Presley Jones'; they had a thing for Elvis Presley when they were young and in love— my mom's words, not mine— but, it doesn't really bother me as much as it used to. It's one of the only ways I'm still reminded whose daughter I am. My parents had also named my sister after a Venezuelan singer called Kiara.

Madison Miller has been my best friend since forever. She was my next-door neighbor back when my family lived in Leigh Falls. Kiki, Maddy, and I went to school together, and we always played together after school. Those times were priceless. When Maddy and I were fifteen, her family had to move here to Westbeach because of a business deal her father had signed. Shortly after when Mom, Dad, and Kiki had passed away, she and her family had been a massive help. They came back to Leigh Falls for a few days to help with the funeral and my move here to my grandparents'.

Maddy has always been there for me whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on. That dreadful moment I was told that mom, dad, and Kiki had died, I completely broke down. Because saying it out loud— that's when it felt the most real. Maddy was the only person who was able to hold me tight enough, calm me, meet me where I was emotionally, and then convince me that I still had reasons to live— she stayed with me at my house, and we wept together, hugging each other one sleepless night after the other.

"Hey, Mads. How was your vacation?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Maddy says.

"Tyler took me out on our first actual date today!" she squeaks.

"Really? Where to?"

I can't hide the surprise in my voice. Maddy and Tyler have been dating for a while now, but they hadn't been out on a proper date. She always senses when I'm not being myself, and knows exactly how to get me out of my head.

"He took me to this really nice restaurant called The French Laundry. It was super romantic," she sighs.

"But we didn't get to talk dirty because there was a bunch of crazy kids next to our table. They were ooh-ing and ah-ing at us every time we kissed, and their parents kept giving us weird looks whenever we said 'fuck.' I mean, come on! It's the fucking twenty-first century."

I just grin at her bluntness. I picture her rolling her eyes as she spoke.

"So...how was your vacation?" I hear a hint of a smirk in her voice.

"Um...it was okay. Plus, you know all about it cause you were with me for most of it." I sit down on my bed, cross-legged.

"Yeah," she drags out the word. "But apart from staying and babysitting, did you meet anyone new? Any guys?" Why does she enjoy this?

"Maddy," I groan, knowing where this was going. "We are not doing this."

"Yes, we are," she sing-songs.

She brings up guys every conversation we have and thinks a boy would do me good. What she doesn't know is that I'm better off without one. After Ryan broke up with me last summer, I'd decided to take a break from dating, at least for a while.

I know I would never win an argument with her, so I give up.

"Okay." I sigh. "What do you need to know?"

"Did you meet any guys?"

I scowl.

"No."

"No one cute at church?" I imagine her wiggling her eyebrows when she says this.

"Nope."

"Not even from around town?" Maddy persists.

"No," I state plainly.

"Really?" She asks, sounding annoyed.

"Yes, really. Are we done now? I don't want a boyfriend, Maddy. Period."

"Fine! But this isn't over, Elvie."

She doesn't need to point it out, I already know how relentless she can be.

"Okay. Ready for school tomorrow?"

I can't help but laugh at the sudden change of mood.

"Mads, I'm only happy about the fact that we have band practice early in the morning tomorrow."

"Speaking of band practice, did you hear about the new guy who signed up?"

Oh, God. Here we go again.

"He moved in last Friday from Nashville. I heard he has thousands of followers on Instagram. And YES he's freaking hot!"

She squeals in a very Madison-Miller-like way.

"Hotter than Tyler?" I ask, smirking.

"No," she scoffs. "Nobody's as hot as Tyler."

"Not even Hardin Scott?" I throw in our all-time favorite movie character.

"Hell no..." She sounds less sure this time.

This makes me laugh.

"Anyway, I haven't checked my socials in a while. I'll look him up later."

"But soon, okay? His name is Deon Martinez. Apparently, he's one of the most talented guitarists in Nashville. I know you have a thing for guitarists. So, maybe band won't be the only exciting thing tomorrow, and maybe we can finally put an end to your dry spell," Maddy says, super excited.

"No, Mads," I stand up from my bed and pace my room. "I mean I'm still hurting from my last heartbreak; I'm not looking for that to happen again. I really liked Ryan, and if I wasn't good enough for him—"

"Elle, Ryan was a Pick to dump you for that bitch, Jessica freaking Wilson. You didn't deserve that. But, if you and the new guy get together, Ryan Gibbons would get jealous, because the two of you would be really popular," Maddy says, completely confident in her totally improbable plan. She has a very weird vocabulary, and by Pick she means a pussy and a dick.

"Why would I wanna make him jealous? I don't think that's a great idea, Mads. Haven't you heard? It's impossible to fix a broken heart?" I say, slumping back down on my bed.

"No, I haven't heard, and it's not true. You really need to lighten up," Maddy says. "What do I always say? Where there is Maddy—"

"Nothing is crappy," I finish with a sign. "I know, I know. Okay, can I go now? I'm tired... and sleepy." I feign annoyance.

"Fine. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty."

"Okay. Thanks, Mads." I smile to myself.

Maddy's quiet for a while. "You okay?" she asks after a moment. "You good to sleep alone tonight? If you need me to come over..."

"Maddy..." I whine. "I'm not in the mood for dirty jokes right now."

"I'm being serious."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Don't you dare do anything stupid, babe. I don't ever wanna lose you."

I know she's talking about the summer three years ago when I almost ended my life. I don't ever want to see her cry like that again. It broke me to see her that way.

"I'm sure, Mads. I promise I won't do anything stupid." I wish her a good night before hanging up.

Opening up Instagram on my phone, I wait patiently until it refreshes and then search for Deon Martinez. A number of profiles line up one after another. I tap on the first one. This one's got a super neat feed. I'm impressed by his commitment to aesthetics. His bio reads, 'Just a guy from a small town in Nashville.' Pretty self explanatory. From what Maddy said, I was expecting something...flashier?

I click on the last thing he's posted, about a month ago. It's a picture of him holding a shiny black electric guitar. He's looking down at it wearing an easy smile. Black hair, light blue eyes, dimpled cheeks, tan and—okay, he's very cute, but I'm not telling Maddy that. If I did, the first thing she would do tomorrow is tell him that I've got a big fat crush on him. She's recklessly supportive like that.

I scroll down to another photo of him. He's at the Eiffel tower with a middle-aged couple, three boys about his height and a little girl, looking about five or six years old.

I keep scrolling. There he is at a bar holding a beer. Another one of him on stage, grabbing a mic stand. There are more photos from his shows. Oh, he's flashy alright, but I'm weirdly interested in this dude. I continue scrolling, careful not to accidentally like any of his pictures.

I stop at a picture of him with his arm around a pretty girl's waist. The girl has both her arms wrapped tightly around him, and she's beaming. That's when it hits me. Given his looks and talent, he must have a girlfriend. I scroll down further and find more pictures of him with other girls. Really attractive ones. Maybe these are just friends or relatives. Maybe not. Anyway, who cares? It shouldn't matter to me because I'm not going to date anyone. Not for a while at least.

But I don't stop scrolling. A few minutes more of deep stalking, and I hit the jackpot. My eyes slightly widen. Deon is standing in this one with a couple of guys and his shirt is raised to his mid-rib, and a set of rock-hard abs is on show. I imagine that's how they feel. His body is lean and he looks athletic. I don't realize I've liked the post until a hot-pink heart appears under it. Oh no. Please no. My heart starts to race as my thumb moves to unlike it quickly. Crap crap crap!

Hopefully, Deon isn't online and he doesn't get a notification saying, ''presley_jones' liked your post.' My hope is immediately quashed when I get a notification saying ''deon_martinez started following you.'

Shit! Would he think I'm a creepy stalker? Obviously!

My phone vibrates with a message and I open up my DMs to see who it is. My heart flutters in my chest when I see 'Deon Martinez' right at the top with '2 messages' under his name. Reminding myself that curiosity got the kid in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas killed, I tap on the message. It reads,

Hey;)

Why'd you take it back?

It only takes me a millisecond to know he's referring to the like. I type back,

Sorry, I liked your post by accident.

He then sends me another message.

Oh, okay.

Wanna chat?

What the hell? This guy's weird AF. He definitely radiates playboy vibes. This reverts me back to reality and I remember I'm not supposed to be remotely interested in this guy. I mean, he doesn't know me. I'm a complete stranger to him. I leave him on read and turn off my phone. I change into my pajamas, leave the light on in my room, get into bed, and hope for a peaceful sleep without any nightmares.

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