Elizabeth: Weird, huh?

Lucky: No, They're good.

Elizabeth: Just do what it says on the box, and -who knew? I thought brownies and gymnastics and making your own clothes were things other people could do, not me.

Lucky: Well, surprise.

Elizabeth: There's probably a lot of things I can do that I don't know I can. Maybe even catch a rapist. What?

Lucky: You're starting not to mind saying that so much.

Elizabeth: Oh, the word? I'm tired of being too delicate to use it. Anyway, who am I trying not to upset?

Lucky: No, I meant saying that you want to find him and make him pay.

Elizabeth: I'm tired of being delicate about that, too. He took something from me that I can't get back, so getting even is the next best thing. Isn't it?

Lucky: That's for you to say.

Elizabeth: Are you changing your mind?

Lucky: When you went to that support group, did the subject come up?

Elizabeth: You don't think it's Mr. Murty anymore. You think that maybe I should quit wondering about this and start thinking pleasant thoughts, like Gram.

Lucky: I think that you shouldn't just do anything because I say so. Maybe I'm just realizing that all I know is what my father taught me.

Elizabeth: So?

Lucky: So, getting even is what he does. He thinks it's good for the soul. You know, you're either his friend or someone he's getting even with, and is that right? Does it help anything? I don't know. But when you were raped, I wanted so bad to kill the guy who did it. But how much sense does that make, when all I wanted and couldn't really have was for you not to hurt anymore? Maybe it's Murty, maybe it's not. But is it going to help? And just because I care about you doesn't mean I know what's best for you.

Elizabeth: You're right to think that I listen to what you say. I mean, why should'nt I? You're just about the smartest person I know. And you don't have to worry about giving lousy advice. For one thing, it's never as lousy as what I would decide on my own, and it's the right thing to do, Lucky. Whether getting this guy arrested helps me sleep at night or not, it's the right thing to do because it'll keep him from raping somebody else.

Lucky: Ok. I just wanted to say that.

Elizabeth: You're too sweet to be true. I just wanted to say that.

Elizabeth: Do you think we're terminally strange?

Lucky: Define "strange."

Elizabeth: Not like other people. I mean, here we are -we've been sleeping in the same room for how long? Not that there's anything wrong with it. Not that it even seems weird anymore. And you're just about the only person I can stand for more than 15 minutes. But you have to admit that it is a little different.

Lucky: I'm strange. You're not. Being not like other people is the whole point of being a Spencer. It's kind of pretentious. When you think about it.

Elizabeth: What's your mother like?

Lucky: I guess I'd have to say I don't know. People take to her right away. When you talk to her, it's like she understands everything. She bowls you over. She impresses the hell out of you because everything she says sounds so true and right, even though a lot of it isn't. I had a -a brother. My whole life, I didn't know about him, until he showed up and got in my face. You'd think she could have mentioned it. See, she makes you feel so important. She makes you feel like the most important thing in the world. But see, you're not. Because the most important things -no, see, those things she doesn't talk about unless she has to. Why do you ask?

Elizabeth: I wonder about her, if maybe she knows something or understands something that i don't and neverwill.

Lucky: Like what?

Elizabeth: She didn't want to get even.

Lucky: Tell me something. Honestly. Can you imagine doing what she did? She was about your age, I think, when she first knew my dad. Say a long time passes -say years. You grow up, you understand things differently, you believe that anyone can make a mistake. The past is past, and you want it behind you.

Elizabeth: And I do.

Lucky: Then can you ever imagine -never mind your whole life, let's just say -let's say a month, a week -living in the same house with the man who raped you? Making his meals, sleeping in his bed? If you can tell me that that makes any kind of sense to you, I will believe you.

Elizabeth: One of the things they said at the group was not to compare ourselves to anyone else.

Lucky: Why? If you didn't have anything in common, there wouldn't be a group.

Elizabeth: It's not the same thing. I don't even know the person who raped me. How am I suppost to tell you how I feel about him if he were someone I started out liking?

Lucky: Well, if he were someone that you went on a date with, would you go out with him again?

Elizabeth: No.

Lucky: Now, see, this is what I'm talking about. You didn't even have to think about it. So can you imagine loving your rapist, even in the Church sense of loving your neighbor?

Elizabeth: Look, I don't feel real comfortable being an authority on your mother or anyone else. Look, we weren't there, Lucky. Isn't it possible that it started out as -I have known a lot of girls who have done things on dates that they regretted the next day, and they blamed the guy for pressuring them into it, but it's not really clear-cut. You know, you don't know which one to believe.

Lucky: No, Elizabeth, listen, everyone that was there called what happened rape -my father, the police, the E.R. doctor and nurse, and my mom even said so then. And my dad, he keeps saying that she forgave him, but I wonder if that's true. Because he doesn't want her to find out that I know what happened. Maybe it's because she's talked herself out of knowing. He likes it that way. He does.

Elizabeth: I'll be honest with you. That's the only thing that makes sense to me because I have tried to look at it through every angle. I've even told myself maybe your mother is just a better person than I am. But if you want the truth, I can't imagine ever loving a man who hurt me like that. Maybe, just maybe, I could get to the point where I didn't hate him every minute of every day. But marrying him? Uh-no way. Not ever.

Elizabeth: Will you do me a favor?

Lucky: Sure.

Elizabeth: Next time I decide to do something as stupid as not going to the police right away, will you get my attention? Will you shave my head or something or just point it out to me? Because who are we kidding? Even if we find the guy who raped me now, it's not like we're going to be able to prove it.

Lucky: That's not necessarily true, though. I can ask around in Murty's old neighborhood. Somebody must have heard something. Look, if his ex-wife is still too scared to talk about it, there's got to be a friend or family member who's just waiting to be asked.

Elizabeth: Not to get technical on you, but we're not sure it's actually Mr. Murty.

Lucky: True. All we know is he's a popular school teacher who likes spicy-smelling soap and beating up his wife. Elizabeth, we may have to settle for less than a full confession here.

Elizabeth: I don't know. What if I can get him to admit it?

Lucky: And how would you go about getting Murty to admit it?

Elizabeth: Well, I'm not sure. I mean, maybe if I was alone with him I could-

Lucky: Well, why would you do that?

Elizabeth: Well, I meant if he thought we were alone. And then I'd bring something to defend myself with-pepper spray, a knife-

Lucky: What? The idea of being that he would do the same thing again?

Elizabeth: Well, if he was attracted to me that way before-

Lucky: Elizabeth: He didn't rape you because he thought you were pretty.

Elizabeth: I know, but they say a lot of guys actually think it's a compliment and maybe he was convinced that I would see it that way, too.

Lucky: No, you're not doing it.

Elizabeth: Are you forbidding me?

Lucky: You're not going to do it because you won't. You couldn't be with him, knowing what he did and pretend not to. You just said you couldn't.

Elizabeth: Lucky -

Lucky: You're not my mother, ok?

Elizabeth: I don't think we should talk about this anymore.

Lucky: Ok.

Elizabeth: I think we should just go to sleep.

Lucky: Go ahead.

Elizabeth: Good night.