At some point, we began talking.
I didn't have any friends because people generally decided I wasn't worth their time, and she didn't have any because she had transferred from another school. Her name was Iris. She was very pretty.
She'd had a baby over the summer - a little girl. She later told me she'd fallen for the popular (and very very stupid) myth that you can't get pregnant the first time you have sex. And so she did. The baby was given up in open adoption, and she got to see her every so often. She was in art. I remember her bringing a picture to lunch and working on it; a pencil sketch of a girl who bore some resemblance to her holding a baby. The girl appeared very sad.
We talked daily at lunch for a little while, then slowly we began to talk less. We both started going to other places during lunch (myself probably to biology, she to the art room or some classroom). After that year I never saw her again.