Noah walks into the garden as his brother, Henry, watches the draft inside. Henry is ineligible due to a surgery he had when he was a teenager, but Noah is a prime candidate to help fight the war.
Noah cuts a yellow tulip off the bush, to put in a vase for their mother. He puts it on the porch and sits on the steps. He can’t watch the draft. If he gets chosen, Henry will tell him.
If he gets chosen for the draft, he needs to make things with Rose right before he leaves. The last time he saw her, they were in her lavender garden, fighting over the fact he prevented a date she wanted to go on. He said the other guy wasn’t good for her, but the truth is, he’s in love with her.
Henry opens the door, tears in his eyes. “Two hundred fifty-seven. I’m so sorry, Noah.” He sits next to Noah and wraps his arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into his brother’s shoulder.
Noah is frozen. He knew there was a chance. But he thought he wouldn’t be picked. A single tear runs down his cheek.
After Noah leaves Henry’s house, he stops by his parent’s house to give his mom the tulip. He goes to the drafting office to get information. He is given two days to say goodbye before he is shipped out.
The next day, Noah dresses in a suit, and picks a bouquet of tulips for Rose. He gets to her house and knocks on the door. Her mother, Mrs. Clarke, opens it. “Noah,” she whispers. “She’s in the dining room.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Clarke.” He steps in and walks down the hall, where Rose sits, reading a book.
“Rose,” he manages to squeak out of his vocal cords.
She lifts her head. “What are you doing here, Noah?”
He sets the tulips in front of her. “I’ve been picked for the draft.”
Her eyes widen in fear. “No,” She whispers.
Noah nods, looking at her book. “I want to take you on a date. Tonight. I leave tomorrow.”
Rose grips the sides of her book. “Is that why you stopped my date before?” Noah looks down shamefully. “You should have told me. We could have had more time together.” She stands up, “I’ll get ready.” Rose and Noah spent the day together.
A few months later, Rose walks up to her house. On her doorstep sits Noah’s brother, eyes puffy from crying, “Rose,” his voice cracks, just like the day Noah told her about the draft. His hand holds out a dog tag that says Noah Peters 257.