Whenever Sasha's old 'friends' expressed surprise she was in college, Jean had to restrain punching them. Sasha wasn't stupid, she just struggled a lot more with reading and words than the rest of them. He knew her upbringing had been a lot different than his. If they'd met as teenagers, it might have frustrated him.

Instead, it made him annoyed at the other people in life who had clearly failed Sasha.

He knows it's bothering her a lot when she doesn't even acknowledge that the food is from Porco's - she once said she'd sell him to the devil for their ribs and not even be sorry about it - and his eyebrows raise. He lowers his arms to wrap around her shoulder, looking over at the book.

"I don't know," Jean says honestly - he always tries to be honest with Sasha, she respects it when he doesn't have the answers. "I know in my classes they want us to do 'critical analysis' and stuff like that, but I don't think that's where you're at." He'd have to look over her syllabus again to see what they wanted.

He drops a peck on her forehead. "How about a food break? And then I'll come help you with that."