His mother replied. Brandon thought (hoped) that he had detected an edge, a sign of defiance in her voice. And this only confused him more.

I asked for this. How much do I want this?

It was possible, he sensed then, and would declare true much later, that what he had wanted most, what had stirred within him in Maine, what continued to twist within his gut in the midst of the pageant unfolding in front of him

because I’m just watching here it’s like I’m not in the same room

Was the realization that the answer to the question that his mother had asked, a week before this encounter, tearfully — “Do you want me to fight for you?” — was “Yes!” More accurately, “What I want is for you not to have to ask!”