In the end, adorable Abigail is your captivating co-counselor.

You never have a dull day at the office. How could you when your coworker is as wild, weird, and winsome as Abigail is? Everytime you think you've got her pegged, she finds a way to surprise you as much as she did when you discovered she was a double agent delinquent, not the least of which was when despite her shriveled shaft, and clear preferences as a bottom she started pegging you with a double ended dildo as a reward for a particularly productive day as her co-counselor.

Or the time she assigned you Slade's case with a shrug and a smirk. You remember asking if it was another test only to, of course, get an enigmatic, "Isn't everything?" You were sorely tempted to punish Slade for all the hurt and humiliation he heaped on you for years, culminating in that one awful night, but what surprised you more than anything once you had him in your office, trembling with trepidation, was how little you felt for him. Your life was going better than ever, and he was stuck in stasis, blaming everyone for his problems but himself. Besides, what else could you do to him? He was locked up...in more ways than one, surrounded by people he both hated and hungered for, and his very inability to look inward ensured he would never see the light of day. You gave it your all, but you had already learned the hard way...in more ways than one, that people have to want to be saved. You marked his file as 'No Progress' and moved on to the souls you could save, never giving him another thought.

You were busy enough just trying to figure out Abby. As open and honest as she is, there always seems to be another facet. One day she will be 'like totes all airheady and like stuff' and practically daring you to lift her short skirt and fuck her over the desk while you are undercover as Bad Bimbois in the quarantine campus...which, of course you do. You never miss a chance to 'fall' for her tricks. That wild, unhinged boundary free fucking that is bestial and brutal and yet always somehow transcends ugliness. She draws out the worst in you, and shows it love too. When you ask her if she does that for you or for her she answers cryptically, "Yes."

Sometimes she'll do the exact opposite, usually when she's wearing one of her tight turtlenecks or button up silk blouses you can't fathom fitting her H cups. Abby will ask you point blank, "How would you fuck me, right now, this instant, if you could do whatever you wanted to me and I would eagerly agree to anything you ask?" It was overwhelming at first, but soon you realized she was being entirely earnest with you. You didn't know you were still a little uptight when it came to talking about sex until you had to say out loud that you wanted her to fist you while you fucked her tits or that you wanted to wrestle her no holds barred winner take all...and boy did she take all...which only made the rematch that much more exciting.

It was one of those times you decided to get clever and ask, "What if instead of fucking, you just tell me your life story?" Abby smiled slyly and then spun a tale that started when she was a small child born in an almost literal Hell and how she learned which demons she could tame, which she needed to flee, and which she had to kill. You learned of her confusion with gender, sexuality...even sanity was murky at times. You learned of lost loves and friends found and got a new perspective on the night you made the worst mistakes of your life when she tells you she fell in love with you then and there and was heartbroken thinking she lost you to your own self hatred. When she was finished you held each other and cried and you asked why she never told you that before.

"You never asked." Abby answered matter of factly, and from then on you asked her everything. Favorite color? "Mood ring" Favorite food? "Angel food cake. Or Devil's food cake. Wait I mean ass." Do you have any other voices you do other than sarcastic, office professional, or bubblegum sweet? "Well, ah guess that depahnds on who's askin', lil' filly." Do you love me? "Come on, sweetie, you know the answer to that." Is there anything I should know about you sexually? "We're both so flexible that we can eat our own asses, suck our own cocks, or any number of pretzel like play together."

Needless to say, you got a lot of practice twisting into knots with Abby that night. You wrapped around each other like snakes mating and experience perverse pleasures beyond your already expansive experiences. By the time you were satiated, the light of dawn was breaking into your window and stealing away any chance of sleep before another 'gruelling' day going undercover.

Not to say that the work isn't hard...and long...and that you don't endure a punishing, pounding pace, but you get the added benefit of being able to sleep in class, suck off bullies in the bathrooms for a wakeup jolt, and then cut the rest of the day to fuck around...often literally...and it's all part of 'establishing your cover'. Ironically, you learned you make much more progress when you genuinely embrace your dirtbag deviant self destructive side than when you fake it.

You used to think growth meant you would rid yourself of your more odious and icky urges, but if Abby taught you one thing it's that some parts of us stay broken, but we can move the shards around to be armor one moment and a shiny lure the next. The more you get to know yourself, the more you realize you're just almost as multi-faceted and mysterious as the elusive Abby. You remember when you reached a breakthrough moment with one of your more troubled charges, a Victim Vixen named Krissy, and she asked you, "So, be honest Miss Amy, is that little baby voice you do when you were getting bullied with me for real? Or is your 'I will fuckin' **** you and cum doing it' voice you used on the bitch blackmailing me the real one? Or is it the laid back, hippy dippy flow you get in your office."

You, of course, answered an ambiguous, "Yes." and wondered if your newly reformed rebel would one day answer the same to someone else. You carry that question with you as you watch Krissy, and many other students Abby and you counseled this year go from struggling to survive to blossoming and branching out. By the time Krissy walks as the Valedictorian, she is already different girl than the one you met trading blowjobs for cigarettes. You never did find out where she got all those cigarettes to pay bullies to let her blow them, but it's just one of many mysteries you have had to accept not knowing. The most pressing lately is why they chose YOU of all people to give the commencement address this year.

You stand over a sea of smiling faces, a smattering of proud parents, and a far larger, realer family surrounding students that are graduating. You look down at your notes...'illustrious institution...hallowed halls...grateful graduates...' and in addition to your overuse of alliteration, you realize it isn't what you really want to talk about. Instead, you look at the love of your life, giving you a quizzical look back and say, "I just want to give you one piece of advice that I think will do more for you than algebra or history or any other bullshit...no offense to our proud professors. See, there I go with the alliteration again."

You get a much bigger laugh than you expected, which tells you that you really should cut down on the alliteration. You continue confidently, "Love yourself the way I love Ms. Abigail. That's it. It will the hardest thing you ever do and it won't get any easier. No offense, Abby, but oh my God, can you be like totes a bitch to figure out. You are teasing and toying and so fucking amazing that it's worth the pain of trying to know you. And I'm never going to stop, even though I know I'll never crack the case. There's just too much of you to know all of you at once. And you taught me that I'm the same way. We all are. The moment we decide we can fit inside a nice clean box is the moment we stagnate and start to atrophy. We have to keep growing and shifting and shedding the suffering we can, and learning to use the scar tissue where we can't. Just love all of yourself the way I love Abby. Sure, she's a bitch...but then again, so am I. So are you. We are all flawed and fucked up...and family. I love all you misfit toys. Love yourselves. Don't ever let anyone try to fix you. Just keep bursting through and growing out of the cracked concrete of your upbringing and flower. You will wilt and wither at times, but seasons pass and you will rise again if only to say to yourself, FUCK YOU! I AM AMAZING AND I WILL NEVER STOP LOVING ME!"

You can barely hear over the deafening din of applause. You smile, knowing tomorrow you will be laughing with Abby at a cordially worded email praising the speech but asking if next time you can avoid profanity just like Abby did last year. You sit back on stage as the procession of grateful graduates begins and lock eyes with your lover from across the auditorium. You can see how proud she is of you, can see that you made her blush a little...a hard feat to be sure. You can see her love for you...and something you can't quite put your finger on...

And then...she winks at you, and you know you'll never tire of trying to solve her mystery. And you'll live...loving and learning...