Icebound Rivalry

Chapter 17- Verbal Sparring

Chapter 17-Verbal Sparring

Maya reached the conference room three minutes early and left the door open.

She arranged the printed sequence on the table and set her notebook beside it.

The afternoon light came through the window in a flat gray line.

She sat down and waited without checking the time again.

Alex walked in at the exact scheduled minute and closed the door.

He took the chair across from her and looked at the sheet without picking it up.

“You changed the order,” he said.

“I adjusted the recovery intervals. The last game showed a longer lag in the third period. This sequence addresses it.”

Alex leaned back. “You watched the lag and decided it was mine.”

“I watched the data. The lag belonged to the leadership pair. You are part of that pair.”

He picked up the paper and scanned the first few lines.

“You have a way of turning observations into accusations.”

“I have a way of turning observations into work. You are the one who hears them as accusations.”

Alex set the sheet down harder than necessary.

“Then explain the work without the commentary.”

Maya kept her voice even.

“Complete the first round. I will time the reset. After that we discuss what needs adjusting.”

He started the sequence. His form stayed clean and controlled.

Maya watched the timing and wrote the numbers without speaking.

When he finished she slid the stopwatch toward the center of the table so he could see the result.

“Two seconds slower than the last clean session,” she said.

“The game was last night.”

“The recovery work is supposed to account for that. That is the point of these sessions.”

Alex’s jaw shifted. “You enjoy pointing out the gaps.”

“I enjoy closing them. There is a difference.”

He held her stare. “You keep saying that. It is starting to sound like a script.”

Maya closed the notebook and rested both hands on the cover.

“If you would rather skip the session and tell Coach you refused the work, say so. I will make the note and we can both stop wasting time.”

The quiet that followed felt sharper than the earlier ones.

Alex did not look away. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table.

“You would like that,” he said. “A clean record that shows I walked out.”

“I would like a clean record that shows the work got done. Walking out is your choice, not mine.”

“You push until someone has to push back.”

“I push until the numbers improve. You are the one who turns it into a fight.”

Alex exhaled once through his nose. The sound carried clear frustration.

He picked up the sheet again and completed the second round without further comment.

Maya recorded the time and kept her expression neutral. The reset was cleaner. She noted it with a short line and moved to the next interval.

When the final sequence ended Alex pushed the chair back and stood. He remained on his side of the table.

“You track every small change,” he said. “It is starting to feel personal.”

“It is professional. You are the one making it personal.”

“Because you will not leave any room for the fact that I already know my own game.”

Maya stood as well. The space between them felt narrower than the actual distance.

“Knowing your game and improving the recovery are not the same thing. You keep treating them like they are.”

Alex’s shoulders stiffened. “And you keep treating me like I am a problem to solve.”

“You are a player who still has lag in the third period. That is the only problem I am here to address.”

He looked at her for a long moment. The set of his mouth stayed hard. “We are done for today.”

“We still have time on the clock.”

“I am ending it.”

Maya gathered the papers and placed them in her bag.

“Then the note will say the session was cut short at your request.”

“Write whatever you need to write.”

He walked to the door and opened it. He paused in the frame but did not turn around.

“Tomorrow after the morning skate,” he said.

“Same room. Bring the original sequence. I am done with the adjustments for now.”

“I will bring what the data supports.”

Alex left without answering. The door closed with a controlled click.

Maya remained standing beside the table and listened until the hallway went quiet.

She picked up her notebook and wrote one line under the date.

He wants the work on his terms. I will not hand it over.

She closed the book and walked out of the room. The corridor was empty.

She took the long way back to the elevators so she would not risk crossing his path again.

The verbal exchange still sat in her mind with clear edges. Neither of them had given ground.

Neither of them had softened the tone.

Inside her hotel room she set the bag down and stood near the window for a short time.

The next session was already set.

He would arrive ready to control the structure. She would arrive ready to hold the line on the data.

The pattern between them had simply become more direct.

Maya sat on the edge of the bed and opened the notebook once more. She did not write anything else.

The fight had found a clearer voice, and both of them seemed prepared to keep using it.