"To City Hall," Andrew says. "We need to get a marriage license first. Why do you look so surprised to hear me say that? I thought we had an agreement."
"It just seems a little sudden, doesn't it?" Avery says, fighting an intense wave of nausea.
"At least I'm dressed for the occasion," Andrew says, looking at her white tracksuit out of the corner of his eye.
"The outfit doesn't matter," Avery says, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "The problem is the date. Today is a bad day for marriage—I've checked the horoscopes and everything."
"Really?" Andrew asks with a smirk. "I didn't know you believed in fortune-telling."
"Sure," Avery says. "And I'm telling you this date is bad. Anyone who gets married today will probably have a divorce. And if there isn't a divorce, the wife will bring terrible luck to her husband. He'll suffer terribly and die at a young age."