Tucked within the bustling campus, the May 4th Memorial Park unfurls over two lush acres. A grandiose granite monument stands tall in the center, inviting visitors to reflect on this solemn day and its lasting impact. The garden draws a steady stream of alumni and students alike to the tranquil surroundings. As they walk along the memorial, their feet brush against exactly 58,175 vibrant daffodils—one for each American life lost during the Vietnam War—a poignant reminder.

As part of the mandatory curriculum, freshmen at Kent State University enroll in a seminar dedicated to the tragic events of May 4th, 1970. Each student is given a copy of the names and photos of the four students who lost their lives that day, along with details about the anti-war protest that turned deadly. The professor somberly reminds students of the importance of remembering and respecting those who passed away on the university grounds many years ago.

Even all these years later, Kent State remembers that day with clarity.

The garden also serves as one of the most beautiful places on campus and is one of the only places you won’t find college students acting like idiots and causing issues. I’m glad that at least when it comes to this, students have a general understanding that we need to maintain respect.

I sit on a granite bench at the far end of the park, camera gripped tightly in my hands. I scan the surrounding trees and flowers, trying to find the perfect spot for our photoshoot but feeling the melancholy emotions that accompany this location. The memorial park is conveniently located near the architecture building, making it a convenient spot to get beautiful photos for Tanner’s upcoming job fair in a few weeks.

“Hey!” Tanner yells as he approaches the park, a grin spread across his lips.

I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him dressed up before, and I’ll admit…I don’t hate it.

As he strolls through the park toward me, his jeans brush against the bright yellow daffodils planted in neat rows. He wears a crisp button-down shirt with the top button undone, a navy-blue suit jacket draped over his arm. The color of his outfit combined with the flowers is a subtle nod to our university, sure to make him an instant conversation-starter at the fair.

“You look nice,” I say with a smile as he halts in front of me.

“So do you.”

I roll my eyes as I look down at myself, clad in a Kent hoodie and leggings. “No need to butter me up, I’m already doing this for free.”

He gasps with mock shock. “Attempting to butter you up? Psh, that doesn’t sound like me.” He winks. “Besides, I plan on paying you, so that’s a moot point.”

“You don’t have to pay me—I already told you I’d do it for free.”

“And I just told you I’m paying you either way.”

“Tanner,” I groan.

“Katarina,” he responds with the same level of annoyance in his cadence.

“You don’t have to?—”

“I know that. But you work hard and you deserve to be paid for that hard work. So let me pay you.”

The earnestness he conveys causes me to instantly crack. “Fine.”

He smiles down at me, no doubt fighting the urge to make some shitty remark about how he won. I’m glad he doesn’t, because I very well might push him down the hill into the parking lot below.

I find a cluster of flowers toward the back of the park with near-perfect lighting. “Stand here, please.”

“Please. So professional, Kat.” He grins and it takes everything in me not to throw something at him.

I laugh as I pull the viewfinder to my eye and smile as I admire the bright yellow flowers through my fixed lens. The shallow depth of field creates a beautiful bokeh effect, blurring the background into a soft blanket of sunshine. I am glad I invested in this lens—it’s perfect for capturing moments like this, even if it did cost me most of my leftover financial aid money last semester.

“Was the outfit on purpose?” I ask as I peer through my camera lens. He squints at me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’re wearing blue, and the flowers are yellow.”

Tanner shifts from side to side as he takes in his surroundings. “Oh damn, they are.”

I just shake my head and fail to bite back a laugh. “You’re such a dork. Stand still and smile, please.”

He does as I ask and we barely talk as he poses and I snap pictures. It’s nearly silent, the only noise the sound of students walking to their evening classes. The garden is one of the more secluded places on campus.

“I think we got it,” I say with a smile.

“Awesome!” He grins as he steps toward me. “Thanks for doing this, seriously. I appreciate it.”

“No need, I am always looking for opportunities to add to my portfolio.”