Lilly inhaled deeply as a mask of smoke was fitted against her face, only just now registering that Scott was a person that existed in her general vicinity. Her exhale was more of a pleasant sigh, the smoke that had been pouring onto her blowing into the stagnant air of her living room. Stagnant air... Oh, the window wasn't open. Her head rolled lazily along the back of the ghost couch, and her pleasant sigh turned into an exaggerated groan. Her small frame turned to jello and she slumped down the backrest, across the seat and into the floor before crawling to the window. Stretching her arm high enough from her place on the floor to push the already unlocked window up was a chore, mostly because the window just seemed to be getting further and further away, traveling up the wall, and up, and up, and up...<br/><br/>Eventually her fingertips met with a pane of glass, and she haphazardly fumbled around and felt along the bottom of the window until she found the lip, and fumbled a bit more to get her fingers under it enough to push it up a couple of inches, just enough to let the air circulate. In the end, gravity was a whore and her arm fell limply onto the floor beside her. She drew in a breath of resolution before hoisting herself to her feet, stumbling over herself for just a second, and making her way to stand on Scott's side of the table where she picked up the Ziploc and slid the divider down the length of the it. She admired the bud from the transparent film that separated it and herself and slowly brought it up to her nose. Smelling something potent while you were in the middle of a trip was a magnificent experience because the smell impacted all of your senses at once, right down to the feeling that brushed over her skin.<br/><br/>"Hundred-thirty?" she mumbled, only half-coherently. She pulled away from the baggie, putting her nose up against her sleeve and breathing in and out a couple of times, only to return to the bag and smell it with a fresh palette. It smelled worth it, and though she hadn't necessarily paid attention to when Scott had been breaking it up, she was sure it broke hellaciously. They still could have shaved off ten bucks and charged a reasonable price. She sealed it back up, rolled it a couple of times and discarded it on the table. It replaced the void that had been left by the Gatorade's absence, and that was the best thing in the world to her right now. Scott looked at her and wagged his tail. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, thought better of it, and just shook her head in dismissal and sat on the floor, reclining uncomfortably against the coffee table.<br/><br/>"One thirty," she echoed mostly to herself. She'd kill to be making bank like that. She might literally kill someone for that. Everyone here had connections, and that's what agitated her. The same guys that Scott copped a quarter from probably got a half for $170 from someone who was getting ounces for fuck knows how cheap. It was an outrage! A scandal! A goddamn monopoly on the weed game! She wasn't going to get all in a huff about prices, though. Good quality bud was hard to come across lately, especially at anything less than a ridiculous price.<br/><br/>Lily only moved when she was passed the blunt, and she took a hard hit - harder than she would have liked, but wasn't there some metaphor for that? Hindsight's twenty... something. Whatever. Her brow furrowed deeply as she struggled to stifle a cough, and she her free hand erratically as if that would even remotely help, before slowly opening her mouth and letting smoke pour out from between her lips. "Who the fuck do we even know that sells for one thirty a quarter?"