My phone rings from across the room of my small apartment. I get up off of the couch and walk into the kitchen. As I look at the caller I.D, I am shocked. Cory Woods.

Cory Woods is the coach of the football team at Northern Illinois. It is seldom that he ever calls anyone to talk one-on-on. If he is calling me when I'm about two hours away, it must be something really important.

"Hello?" I ask after hitting the answer button.

"Four, finally! I've been meaning to get in touch with you," he says like he has really been trying to call for the last two months that I've been gone.

"Um, you have?" I mumble. I immediately pick up the mistake and continue by saying, "Oh, um, why?"

"A couple reasons. First of all, the press has been calling nonstop to get an interview with anyone who knows anything about Lucas. They are very eager to have a press conference with you and your secret family," he says. I should have assumed this is what the phone call would be about. One thing about Coach Woods is that he loves for the team to get as much attention as possible. I'm surprised he didn't call earlier.

"Well, um, we kind of agreed on that. We decided it would be best if no one knew about Lucas being my son because he was too young to feel the pressure of the press. I'm still no sure he is ready," I lie. Well, it isn't exactly a lie. It is more like twisting the truth.

"Sorry, Four, but we're gonna need you to take one for the team. We could use this publicity," he says. I roll my eyes. Of course we could. When could we ever not need the publicity? Note the sarcasm.

"And, Coach Woods, I'm telling you that I am Lucas's father and that he isn't allowed to go to any press conferences," I reply. A staticky sigh comes through the ear piece of my phone.

"Fine, but we're gonna need some kind of statement for the press sooner or later," he says. I sigh and nod even though he can't see me.

"Yeah, of course," I reply in a less than enthusiastic voice.

"Next matter of business, we need some pictures of you and that Tris girl or whoever the mother is for the press. The pictures from the zoo were great but we need some of the two of you together enjoying yourself," he says. I lift the hand next holding the phone up to my temple and begin rubbing, knowing that a conversation with this man - like usual - is going to result in a massive headache.

"And how am I supposed to know that they're actually going to get one of those pictures?" I question.

"I don't know. Post a selfie of you two on Instagram or let me know where you're going so I can tell them. We just need some good pictures of you two," he states. I sigh.

"Anything else?" I ask, ready to return to my spot on the couch and finish the show I was watching.

"Yeah, we need to talk about your spring training and conditioning," he says. I sigh. He has already been explained my training schedule at the gym multiple times and has approved it himself. Why would he need to talk about it more?

"What about my training and conditioning?" I ask.

"I need you to come back up and work on it with the team. You aren't getting enough achieved by going and hanging out at the YMCA for a few hours each day. I don't make these exceptions for just anyone, you know," he says. I let out a long, disappointed breath. I should have figured this would happen. If anything, it probably would have happened sooner.

"I don't know if I'll be able to do that. I have a lot of loose ends down here," I reply.

"Look, son. You have two choices. You can either come up here in the next three weeks and keep your position or you can stay there and loose your position of quarterback and maybe even any spot on the team," he says. I nod.

"I understand, sir. I'll be back in a few weeks," I agree, afraid of what might come with fighting this man.

"You're right, that sounds like a good idea. I'll see you in exactly three weeks," he says right before hanging up. This is just great. He expects me to leave Chicago and everything I've built up here these last few months.

How can I, though? The last few months have been some of the best of my life. I need my position as quarterback back as well. How do I feel my Lucas? I don't want to hurt him again.