Just down the hall, to a chemistry lab

Bree had picked Mr. Wilson's chemistry lab for several reasons, other than it being her first class of the day. She'd chosen it for the multitude of storage cabinets and lockers in the room, and her station being in the far back of the lab. She knew of one cabinet that was mostly unused, located right next to her station, at floor level. The supplies kept there were more an emergency reserve than anything else, plus a few rarely-used items for particular experiments, and therefore it was highly unlikely anyone would end up in it on a given day. It afforded her the cover and relative safety she needed to both quietly stash something there, and have it be there when she came back for it later that day.

It only took her a few steps down the hall to slow her stride, as she realized just how much her footsteps were echoing down the hallway. While it was rather unlikely Mr. Weatherby was roving the halls, and the security room was on the other side of the building, it would completely defeat her purpose for coming here if she was discovered before she got started. Despite her reduced pace, and her efforts to step softly, her flats still made a slight clack every time they hit the tile, and they still seemed like gunshots to her ears. In hindsight, she really should have worn her moccasins for this. The soft leather would have been far quieter than the hard rubber soles of her flats.

As she reached Mr. Wilson's door, she glanced up the hall again, eyes and ears straining for any sign of Mr. Weatherby coming around. There was no sign of him, and a faint sigh escaped her lips as she carefully opened the door, squeezing through it before softly shutting it behind her. She managed that with only the faint schick of the latch sliding, which helped to quell her pounding heart a bit.

Safely within the lab, and trusting the heavy door to shield her noise, she quickly headed to the storage cabinet. She'd leave her flats here, and get rid of the noise that was so likely to give her away. She toed her flats off, faintly smiling at the cool tile beneath her soles, then crouched and stashed her flats in the back of the cabinet. Satisfied with their concealment, she carefully closed the cabinet, and headed back to the door.

Her heart hammered in her ears as she first peered through the small window on the door, then carefully cracked it open, watching and listening for Mr. Weatherby. There was still no sign of him, and she slipped back out the door, easing it shut behind her.